


The bottle on the beach

by Mastre



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Inspired By Tumblr, Loki Feels, Loki Needs a Hug, POV Third Person, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-20 03:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 33,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8234122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mastre/pseuds/Mastre
Summary: You find a message in a bottle and from one moment to the next your world changes.





	1. The message

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this prompt from [ Writing Prompts ](http://writing-prompt-s.tumblr.com/) : "One day on a crowded beach you find a message in a bottle. It reads, “I’m so sorry to have done this to you.” You look up and the beach is empty. You are alone."

She never felt so alone as when she was surrounded by crowds of people.

Trying to navigate it all was tiring. She tried her best to get through without having a nervous breakdown, just wanting to find a part of the beach that wasn't overrun. Probably should have known better than to come here a day like today.

Then she saw it. As she remembered later, she found it strange that nobody else had seen it. A glass bottle with a strange rainbow tint to the glass. Perhaps it was a trick by the sunshine, but she'd never seen glass looking quite like that. She crouched down to take a closer look. Once she touched it the glass seemed to sparkle under her fingers, like it recognized her touch. Remarkable.

The bottle was partly buried in the wet sand at the waterline. She pulled it out and the sand dissolved easily as the water rinsed it away. It looked like an ordinary bottle in shape and size, only the rainbow sparkle indicated something unique. And she loved unique things; they intrigued her to no end.

What's even more intriguing was the silhouette of a paper note inside it. She opened the bottle with a growing sense of anticipation and fished the paper out. It felt strange to the touch. She wondered what kind of paper had been used. It seemed foreign; something about the texture...

The letters, in black ink, were intricate and perfectly shaped. She should have wondered about the fact that they were written in ink, when everybody nowadays only used ballpens and the like, but it only added to her excitement. There was an almost indescernable green gloss to the black when the sunlight fell just right.

Only one sentence was written on the bottled note: "I’m so sorry to have done this to you."

She looked up, suddenly aware of the eerie silence that filled the air. The waves were lazily lapping at the sand as before, the sun and the sky were unchanged, but the beach around her, that had just moments ago been filled with people, was now empty as far as the eye could see.  
She looked down at the bottle, at the note, read it again, turned it over. The back was blank. She turned in all directions but there was nothing to be seen except the beach itself. Everything was the same, only the people... any sign of human presence... were gone. Not even a towel or a piece of trash was left behind.

_Am I going nuts?_

Next thought was that she had been drugged. When was the last time she ate or drank anything? But the thought that someone would break into her home just to lace her food didn't make any sense whatsoever. Gas? Was she actually home in bed, just dreaming about the trip to the beach? It sure would explain it, but it didn't feel like a dream. Not even close.

She started walking. A sense of dread was creeping up on her and she focused on other things to keep it in control. The sand beneath her feet, the rough grass on the hill she passed, the fabric of her longshirt as it hung loosely around her form.

_Focus on the physical, focus on what's real._

She walked for a long time, it felt, before she found something resembling human life. It looked like a man, sitting in front of a houselike structure. It was small and inconspicuous and seemed to melt into the background. It was only when she came close she actually saw it. The man stood out in the deserted world, seemingly lost in his own thoughts as his eyes were fixed on the sea. His long black hair was moving slightly in the wind, framing sharp features and high cheekbones. It was only when she was a few steps away that he turned to face her.  
"So here you are," he said.  
"Here I am," she answered, waiting to see if he would clarify his cryptic statement.

His gaze travelled briefly over her person, not indicating whether he was pleased or disappointed to see her. There was nothing familar about his features; she was sure she'd never encountered him before. So why did he sound like he'd expected her to show?

"I don't know if you noticed, but a lot of people suddenly disappeared on me," she said when he didn't show any sign of continuing.  
"They didn't disappear, you did."  
"Okay... Care to explain what that means?

_Just play along. I want to see what he says. This is all so fucked up anyway._

He stood up, turning out to be considerably tall and slender in build. He wore a loose green tunic with gold details and black leggings. Not a way most guys dressed where she came from.  
"It means I stole you away from your world," he said, sounding calm and completely serious. "You're in an... alternate dimension that exists beside your own."  
"Okay..." She waited, wondering if he would say more or if she had to formulate a question that levelled his words in absurdity.  
"Don't believe me?" he said, smiling slightly. "Feel free to explore! You will find that there's noone here except us. Unless you count the wildlife, of course."

She considered it, but wanted more out of this encounter first. If she left and came back he might be gone and she would have missed an opportunity. Not that she could trust everything out of this man's mouth, but it was still a chance to learn something.  
"And why would you 'steal me away' as you call it?"  
"I'm tired of being alone," he said, looking at the sea again. "The borders are thin at times; I can... observe what happens on your side, even if I cannot enter. You come often."

It was true. She did visit the beach several times a week, but usually when it was more or less empty.  
"So you've been watching me."  
"Sensed you, rather. I didn't see your physical form until now."  
"Sorry if it disappoints you," she said sarcastically.  
He looked at her again.  
"I care little what you look like. It's your mind I'm interested in."

Somehow that sounded even creepier than the fact that she'd been watched. She also noticed the unusual, slightly old-fashioned way in which he talked. It seemed natural to him, not like he was acting or trying to impress her.  
"Who are you?" she asked, both wary and intrigued.  
"Does it matter?" He made a brief smile, more like a twitch of the mouth really. "I'm someone who's fated to remain in this place and I have decided I will no longer be alone."  
"Of course it matters." She was sure to keep her distance, but he hadn't made any attempts at touching her yet. She wondered how fast he was if she needed to run. "You talk about kidnapping me because you want company. The least you can do is tell me who you are."  
"You will find out eventually," he said quietly and sat down on a thick length of wood that seemed to serve as a bench. "Please take a seat," he said and indicated the free space beside him.

She didn't move.  
"I will not grab you, if that is what you fear." His voice sounded slightly exasperated. "There is no need, and I don't wish to intimidate you."  
Well, that sounded nice and all but she was not going to take his word for it.  
"Why should I believe anything you say?"  
"Do you have a better explanation for how you ended up here? For how all those other people could so suddenly disappear? You're free to believe as you wish; it will not matter in the end."

Good point. It was just too... supernatural. She couldn't explain how everyone around her could vanish so completely in the mere minute she took her eyes of them. It was physically impossible. The only explanation was that it was a dream, and then her actions, and the risks, didn't really matter.  
She went to sit next to him, but with some space in between. He did seem disturbingly real. She considered touching him just to check, but decided against it for now.

He looked amused.  
Leaning forward he rested his forearms on his knees.  
"I enchanted an object," he said, "so when you interacted with it you would be pulled through the barrier into this world. It took quite some effort. I had to make it just right, every detail... had to be perfect for it to work satisfactory."  
"Enchanted?"  
"It needed to be attuned to you specifically, so to catch your attention and connect with your touch. Then it needed to pull you in, intellectually and emotionally. I'm quite proud of it; magic is a true work of art at times."

She took the note out of her pocket.  
"So you wrote this?"  
"It's a vessel for the enchantment. Yes."

This was getting further and further from the reality she knew. She read the note again, touched the writing with her fingertips like it could reveal the answers she was looking for.  
"So how come you know how to do magic stuff?" she asked. Who _are_ you?"  
He sighed, sounding impatient.  
"It makes little sense to tell you now. I know magic because I was taught from a young age."

Something about his demeanor warned her from asking more in that direction.  
"So what do you want with me?" she tried instead. "What am I supposed to do? Entertain you?"  
He moistened his lips.  
"I don't expect much in the way of stimulating conversation, since you're a mortal. I merely want... your presence. Your voice, your thoughts. Your company in any way you choose to present it."  
"But why me? There were plenty of people on that beach, why pick me?"  
"Because I could sense you. There is something about your mind that's easier for me to connect with. It would not have been possible to pull you in otherwise."

She looked down on her feet. She had always felt different, but this... this was beyond weird.  
"But I... Can I go back? Or are you going to keep me here?"  
"There is no way back," he said. "Once you cross over you're bound to stay." He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, and nothing to be upset about.  
"You pull me into another dimension and tell me I'm trapped here? What the f...?"  
He reached out, incredibly fast, and captured her chin between his fingers.  
"Yes, you are trapped. I suggest you make the best of it." There was a malicious glimt in his eye, contrasting to his previous calm behaviour, and his voice had a sudden sharpness to it. "I don't have patience for childish games," he said. "The sooner you accept your situation the easier it will be for you."  
"Fuck you!"  
He laughed, but the amusement didn't reach his eyes. The grip on her chin loosened and he withdrew his hand.  
"Feel free to explore. I will be here when you come back." He stood and went into the house without another look in her direction.

She walked back to the road, but had a heavy feeling that this wasn't going to end well. She'd had lucid dreams before. This felt nothing like it. It was all too real, including his hard fingers on her face. She wondered if they would leave marks. What do you do when your whole reality is turned upside down?

The road was gone. So was the parking lot and the wooden building that had been standing next to it. All signs of human presence were gone like they'd never been there. Another dimension... She touched a tree. Nature, at least, seemed the same.

She walked slowly, needing time to think. If this was another... world entirely, what was _he_ doing here? So desperate for company he kidnapped someone from the other side. He'd been willing enough to explain how she got here, but refused to reveal who he was. How did that make any sense?

The sea came into view again. So did the house, or whatever to call it. The stranger, dangerous as he might be, was her only lead to an answer. She realized one thing; if he was so set on keeping her here he had no reason to tell her how to get back. It was perfectly possible that a way existed.


	2. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Which is scarier: a fallen angel or a fallen god?

He had food ready. Simple, but edible. She ate in silence, sneaking peeks at him when she thought he wouldn't notice. More than once she was about to ask questions, but stopped herself in time. She doubted nagging would make him more prone to reveal anything. It was just so frustrating to fumble in the dark. So many pieces missing. Not knowing what to expect.

When the sun set she was beginning to feel nervous. No way she was going to sleep in this man's presence.

He stood and beckoned her to come along as he walked through a doorway to an inner room. There were two beds, one of them behind a curtain.  
"It's yours, for when you wish to retire. It's early yet, but you're free to take your rest whenever you so desire. I won't bother you." He left her there, returning to the outer room. She pulled the curtain aside. It was thin, but opaque enough to give some privacy. This surprised her. When he'd talked about wanting company she had expected... well, the obvious. Separate beds were no guarantee though. He might just prefer to sleep alone and planned to make her side a visit whenever the mood struck.

She shuddered at the prospect. It was deeply unsettling to be at someone else's mercy like this. As if the situation wasn't disturbing enough. No, she would definitely not be sleeping tonight.

Taking a few moments to gather her composure she forced herself to go back outside. The man was standing with his back against the wall, arms crossed, and looking out towards the sea. The sun was almost gone under the horizon, sky darkening.  
"I have no intention of making you miserable," he said. "I realize you need time to adjust, but don't be too long about it. I'm not... overly patient."  
"Easy to say... It's not like I can control how I feel."  
"But you can." He turned his head to look at her. "It's in how you manage your thoughts."

That sounded familiar somehow. Cognitive therapy, she believed it was called. So he knew that concept.  
"So if I can't leave... What about you? You said you're 'fated' to stay here; does that mean you can't leave either? Magically?"  
"I cannot." His gaze returned to the sea. There was a hard tint to his voice now, a bitterness that had been long brewing from the sound of it.  
"Why? Did someone drag you here and then left, or what?"  
He bit his lip.  
"I'm here because certain people find it... inconvenient to have me walk free. It was either this or a prison cell. Quite a choice, don't you think?" He looked at her again, eyes dark with restrained fury.

_Prison cell... Oh fuck, what did he do?_

She fought the impulse to take a step away.

"Well..." She tried to sound casual. "I suppose this is marginally better. Not that I have experience with either."  
He sighed, rubbing his eyes.  
"Unfortunately I do, and yes, this is somewhat better." He started walking towards the water, gesturing for her to follow. She did so reluctantly, careful not to stay too close.

They walked leisurely along the waterline, mostly in silence. Watching his clothes and features, curiosity finally got the better of her.  
"You're not from around here, are you?"  
"That would be to put it mildly." He seemed amused at her comment, or maybe he was just being sarcastic, it was hard to tell.  
"I don't know if I _can_ get used to this," she said, avoiding to step on a mussel shell. "I'm still not sure it's all real."  
"You have such a limited knowledge of the true workings of reality," he said.  
"And you don't?"  
"I've seen more than you ever would in that pathetic realm of yours."  
"You know, for not wanting to make me miserable you're quite rude."  
He smiled a little.  
"As I said, I'm not patient."

* * *

She was sitting on her bed, knees up to her chest and leaning against the wall. There was a small light emanating from the other bed where _he_ was appearantly reading; for the rest the room was dark. The fact that he could lie there, completely relaxed, while she was as tense as a steel wire was just absurd. 

Of course he was the one in control here, not full of questions and fears like she was.

How much to believe was uncertain, but his explanation for her predicament was as good as any. What had happened wasn't natural. She had to trust her senses, and they told her things were exactly as they seemed. She had left her own world behind. Perhaps the strange man had caused it, perhaps not, but she was here and till she could figure out how to get back she needed to find it in her to cope.

Since she did have food and a bed to sleep in her basic needs were met; that's what mattered most. The rest she would have to play by ear.

She yawned. The light at the other side of the room turned off and she heard soft movements, like he was changing position in bed. It didn't seem like he was about to come over. She listened intently but all she heard was his breathing, slowing down as he seemed to fall asleep. It felt strangely intimate.

* * *

She must have fallen asleep herself at some point since she woke up in full daylight, lying still dressed on top of the covers. She quickly sat up straight and listened. Not a sound. Peeking out by the curtain she saw the other bed empty and neat. Carefully she stood and tiptoed to the doorway. The outer room was deserted as well.

It was only when she ventured outside that she saw movement. The man from yesterday came walking towards the house carrying fishing tools and some smaller fish he'd appearently caught. He wore his hair slicked back like the day before but the wind had caught it and blew black strands around his neck and shoulders.  
"You're awake," he concluded when closing the distance.  
"Yes. What time is it?"  
"Late morning. If you wish to measure time here you need to watch the sun." He walked past her into the house. She reached into the pocket of her longshirt and retreaved her mobile phone. 10.46. She checked for a signal, just in case, but there was none. Nothing had changed since yesterday. She was still stuck in limbo.

She reentered the house and watched him clean up and store things away.  
"Is this how we get food here? Catching it ourselves?"  
"Not always. There are times I get supplies from... those who put me here. They wouldn't want me to starve too quickly." His voice took on a tone of bitter cheerfulness. "What would be the fun in that?"  
"So you get visitors?" That sounded hopeful. Maybe she would get rescued.  
"I don't." 

So how were the supplies delivered then, she wondered. Dropped from a plane?

"Just how long have you been here?" she asked instead.  
"Long enough."

_Not very talkative, are we?_

He prepared the fish, so that was appearantly to be their meal.  
"I can't believe we are the only people here," she said as he brought the food and joined her at the table.  
"Believe it. This little piece of reality was designed especially for me."  
"Like a prison? Who could do that?"  
His face revealed his distaste for the subject, but he did answer. Sort of.  
"There are powerful beings in the universe. You humans don't know a fragment of it."  
"You're saying you're not human?

Ridiculous. What else would he be?

"I'm not."  
She wasn't sure what to say to that. She wasn't sure of anything anymore. Everything she believed in had been flipped around. It was disturbing and made her feel like walking on unstable ground that could collapse any minute.

Suddenly she remembered that he had called her 'mortal' the day before.  
"You're not an angel, are you?" She was only half serious.

_If he says his name is Lucifer or something I'll..._

The man suddenly looked amused.  
"Not quite. You're thinking of the wrong mythology, I believe."  
"What?"  
He looked her in the eye, serious and intense.  
"Since you're so persistent in asking questions I suppose I'd just as well tell you. I'm Loki. Of Asgard, till they saw fit to banish me here."

She stared at him. Then it clicked.  
"No..."  
"Oh yes."  
"You're the one who..."

_Oh crap!_

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked, now seriously uneasy. This... this was the guy who'd tried to conquer the planet with an army of aliens years ago. The trickster god from Scandinavian myths. She couldn't believe the trouble she was in.  
"As I explained yesterday, I'm tired of being alone and desire company. It's really that simple." He continued eating like there was nothing to it. Like they were discussing the weather, or something equally mundane.  
"So you just kidnap someone? Like when you want something, you just take it?"

Of course, what was abducting one person to someone who'd tried to invade an entire world?

"In a sense, yes."  
He seemed completely unbothered.

She didn't feel like eating, but didn't know what he'd do if she refused. This was dangerous; she had to focus on getting out alive. And staying healthy, she told herself.  
"Now, this is the reason I would have preferred to tell you later," he said. "I'd rather you not have preconceived notions."  
"Preconceived... You can't be fucking serious. You think it would have made a difference if you told me later on?" And there her caution flew out the window.  
"So I had hoped, not that it matters now."

She was trying, really trying, to adapt to the situation, to roll with the punches so to speak, but every time she'd managed to get her foot on solid ground something new was thrown at her. The punches just kept coming.

She forced herself to keep talking.  
"So... are you stuck here because of what you did... back then? On Earth?"  
"Among other things."

She took a good look at him. So technically he was an alien, or a god perhaps, but he _looked_ deceivingly human. She only knew what she'd picked up from news and social media at the time and it wasn't much. Though it had been a huge thing when it happened, there was very little known about the man who had engineered it. "War criminal" they had called him. Presumably he had been brought back to Asgard by...  
"Was Thor the one who put you here?"  
"The Allfather did. My so-called brother doesn't have the power to create something like this." He sounded positively resentful, clenching his jaw in anger before suddenly getting up from the table and walking out.

She forced herself to finish her food, wondering if she'd brought down more trouble on herself by asking the wrong thing. It was hard to know what would set him off.  
She felt a bit unsteady when standing up, and she fumbled when collecting the dishes. Her hands were shaking from adrenaline. Cautiously she began washing up, thinking she should do something useful to calm her mind, to focus on anything but the weirder aspects of her situation.

_How will I ever get out of this?_

She jumped when a hand touched down on her back.  
"Easy," he said, not without humour. "You are like a scared little bird, waiting to get pounced upon by a predator."  
She made a face at the comparison. It wasn't totally wrong, but she disliked the epithet.  
"I'm not scared of you."  
"No?" There was a mildly mocking tone to his voice. "That pleases me, because you will be spending considerable time in my company from here on."


	3. Cozed up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're forced to spend some time together you'd want to make the best of the situation.

She didn't know what to do with herself. She had just walked, putting as much distance between herself and him as possible, walking to get the energy out of her system. It didn't help. There was nowhere to turn, noone to help. She ended up sitting on the beach, near the waterline, and digging into the wet sand with her toes.

_Why me?_

There was something about her mind that he had connected with, he'd said. She couldn't imagine what that would be. 

She'd always been the odd one out, the one who didn't fit in, didn't have the right interests and priorities. Too intellectual, too deep, too emotional (and bad at hiding it). What could she possibly have in common with a megalomaniac villain from another planet?

Maybe it was a punishment. Karma for not trying hard enough to fit in, to be normal.

_If she doesn't feel at home in this world, let's whisk her away from it._

She had a feeling he was approaching before she heard him. He moved very quietly and the soft shifting of sand only reached her when he came to stand right behind her. She blinked a couple of times to get rid of the tears that were burning her eyes.  
"Are you done sulking?" he asked. "I brought you here so I wouldn't have to be alone."  
"You're not exactly inviting company," she pointed out.  
He crouched down beside her.  
"I suppose not." He rubbed his fingers with the other hand's thumb. She was still surprised how human he looked, everything considered. 

"I don't want to be here," she said after some silence.  
"That's unfortunate. Neither do I, but the Allfather doesn't share my sentiment on the matter."  
"But I..." She stopped herself. It was no use. They were both put here against their will. The only difference was that she could face the one who did it.  
"I still don't understand what you want from me," she said instead. "I'm not even good company. Everyone says I'm boring." It hurt to admit, but it was the truth. She'd heard it more than enough.  
"When I sensed your presence 'boring' was not the impression you gave."  
"Maybe you made a mistake," she suggested. "You were sensing someone else..."  
"I don't make mistakes," he said curtly, standing up again. Then he reached down and dragged her up by the arm. He was surprisingly strong, didn't even seem to make an effort when pulling her to her feet. She barely had time to reach out and grab her shoes. Without letting go of her he started walking and she just had to keep up.

He had really long legs, and it took her a while to fall into rythm with his pace. Luckily he didn't walk too fast. She had a feeling he wouldn't slow down if she stumbled, but the firm grip on her arm told her he wasn't likely to let go either.

When they were approaching the house it started to rain. Tiny drops at first, but quickly growing heavier. She hadn't noticed the clouds, being too absorbed in her own thoughts. Now she realized the sky was completely clouded over.

They managed to reach the house before getting soaked, much thanks to Loki's brisk pace. His black hair was moist, which made it curl slightly around his shoulders. With an annoyed look he stroke back a strand from his face and disappeared into the other room.

She went to the window and watched the rain paint the glass in patterns of rivulets. It seemed to reflect her mood. Melancholy, despair. Far away she heard something that might be thunder.

Loki came back, wearing dry clothes. He threw her a tunic and she reluctantly went to the back room to change. It was oversized on her, but obviously there wouldn't be any fitting clothes if he'd been alone here all the time. For how long, she wondered. Months? Years?

It felt a little weird to wear something of his, something that he had worn on his own body. It smelled clean though, she concluded after sniffing it.

When she returned to the outer room he had opened a wine bottle and poured deep red liquid into two cups. The bottle had a similar rainbow tint as the one she had found on the beach, but with a different shape.  
"It will warm you up," he said and pushed one of the cups towards her before closing the bottle. "I'd advice you drink slowly; it wasn't made for mortals."  
She picked up the cup, noticing it was elaborately decorated, and took a careful sip. That... was positively the strongest wine she had ever tasted. She frowned and tipped the cup to look at it's content.  
"Where is it from?" she asked.  
"Asgard," he said and settled on a chair by the table, balancing his own cup between his fingers before bringing it to his lips. "The Alfheim kind is milder, but I don't have any at the moment."

It was indeed warming her up. She felt the same effect from one sip as she would from a whole glass, had it been the regular variety. Feeling daring she took another before placing the cup on the table.  
"So... Asgard brings you wine?" she asked, short on ideas for conversation topics.  
"Among other things." He leaned back in the chair, legs outstretched. He had exchanged his shoes for black slippers, she noticed. "Only the common variety, of course." His lips curled at the comment, but he didn't seem to mind drinking it.

The rain was growing heavier yet, drumming against the windows. There was definitely thunder coming closer. Loki cursed under his breath and took another sip from his cup.   
"In case you wonder, I'm keeping you shielded from Asgard's prying eyes," he said. "They will know nothing of your presence."  
And there went her last hope of being rescued. She took another sip of the wine just for the heck of it. Normally she didn't care for strong alcohol, but this had a pleasant flavour to it so she didn't mind as much.  
"How do you do that?" she asked, suddenly curious.  
"I use my magic," he said, playing with the cup in his hands. "I'm capable of hiding myself and others in my company as needed, so even Asgard's watchman can't detect us."  
"Watchman?"  
He turned towards her.  
"Heimdall guards the Bifrost. He supposedly sees everything that happens in the nine realms. In truth, his gaze has limitations and it can be thwarted."

Heimdall. Bifrost. The words sounded familar, but she hadn't actually read the myths, only heard them referenced. Now she wished she had paid more attention.  
"So the nine realms... they exist?"  
"They do." He drank his wine without looking at her. The subject didn't agree with him. His face had taken on a dark, closed look again, jaw clenching slightly.  
She reached for her cup to have something to do, to win time while she was thinking of something else to say. She didn't want him in a bad mood. Not when she was stuck inside with him like this and had nowhere to go unless she'd get soaked. Or hit by lightning.

Just as she thought it a light flashed through the windows. Not three seconds later a loud boom erupted outside. Too close for comfort. No way she was going out there unless her very life depended on it.

Loki made a face.  
"One would think my dear brother was about to make a visit."  
"Would he?"  
Loki huffed.  
"Not likely." He lifted the cup to his lips once more, then reached for the bottle and poured some more wine before putting it away.

At least he wasn't planning on getting drunk. That felt just a little bit reassuring. He was dangerous enough while in control; she didn't want to think about the alternative.

And that brought her back to what kind of company he wanted. Was this cozy little drinking session a warm-up to intimate advances? She watched him warily. He seemed lost in thought, inspecting the decorations on the wine cup. There was a sharp contrast between his black hair and pale skin, giving him a foreign, otherworldly look. The high cheekbones only added to it.

"You're watching me like a prey eyes a predator again," he said without looking up.  
"Sorry." She had tried to be discreet. How did he even notice?  
"I don't intend to harm you if I can avoid it. There wouldn't be much sense in bringing you here then, would it?"

_How would I know? I saw the pictures from New York. Who knows what goes on in your head? Maybe you just like to torture people?_

She didn't speak those thoughts out loud, just mumbled something and took another sip from her cup. It was now half empty and she was feeling light-headed. Not sure if that was a good or a bad thing. It made the situation easier to deal with, but also increased the risk of slipping up.

Of making him angry.

He stood up in all his tallness and took a step towards the window behind her. She instantly shied away.  
He frowned.  
"What are you afraid of, exactly?"  
"I'm... I..."  
"Spit it out, human! I know you can talk coherently."  
"Are you going to make me... make me..."  
"Make you what?" His voice was getting increasingly impatient and it didn't exactly calm her nerves. Not when he stopped right in front of her chair and hovered over her.  
"Are you going to make me sleep with you?" she blurted out, almost panicking.  
He looked stunned.  
"What?" He did seem genuinely surprised. "Why would I...? What in Bor's name makes you think I would want to do such a thing?"  
"Well, when a guy kidnaps a woman and talks about wanting company it usually means..."  
"Norns!" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have no intention of bedding you, so you can stop fretting." His voice was somewhere between incredulous and annoyed, but it seemed like his reaction was sincere. There was no reason to lie about it, she thought. And she refused to feel embarrassed for asking; it was a perfectly natural conclusion to draw.

He turned his back and went to stand by the window, remaining there as the only sound filling the room was the rain patting aggressively at the glass. The thunder was moving away again but the downpour showed no sign of stopping.

She drank some more of her wine since there was little else to do and she couldn't think of anything to say. Now some of her fears were relieved she allowed herself to feel more comfortable. It was actually quite nice in here, warm and light, with the weather raging outside.

Loki's voice reached her, pulling her out of her thoughts.  
"Would it really be so horrifying if it were true? Am I that repulsive to you?" He had turned partially towards her again, watching her with dark eyes.  
"No, that's not it. I just... I don't want to be _forced_."  
"Of course not." He turned his gaze back out the window, muttering something about "mortals", she couldn't make out what. 

Eventually he returned to the table and settled in his chair with a book in his hands.

Her head was spinning but it was a good spin. She stretched her legs and lazily leaned back in the chair. Her hand went to the tunic she was wearing, examining the smooth, silky material with her fingers. It was not a fabric she recognized and she wondered what it might be made of. Did they have silkworms in Asgard? Angora goats? Did they have the same animals at all? The same plants?

She would ask Loki when she'd sobered up a bit. Maybe he would be happy to talk about his home realm. Or maybe not, considering who were responsible for putting him here.

She snuck a peek. He seemed completely immersed in his book, leaned back with his legs obscenely far apart. What was it with the manspreading? She had noticed it yesterday as well.

He absent-mindedly rubbed his lower lip with his thumb.  
It felt strange to compare this image with the destructive force Loki had demonstrated in New York years ago. He looked decidedly peaceful, focused and... human. 

She drank the last of her wine and tried to remember what little she'd learned of the myths, but her mind was getting fuzzy.

Outside the rain kept falling.


	4. Fitting in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're adjusting just a little bit, but are still wary.

That night she dared to undress and slip under the covers. It still took a while to fall asleep, and it was a very light slumber, easily interrupted. She woke up when Loki got up from his bed and walked out, but it was still dark, so she simply went back to sleep. Then she woke again when he came back. He moved more quietly the second time, so it was more likely her hypersensitive state that aroused her than his movement actually disturbing her.

She woke up a third time from a hand squeezing her shoulder and, coming straight from a dream, she shrieked.  
"Norns," she heard Loki's voice."Do you still think I'm going to assault you?"  
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, collecting herself. "I had a dream... I think."  
Loki made a face.  
"Those can be bothersome," he said vaguely. "There is food ready." And with that he left her alone.

She looked around for her clothes but they were gone. The tunic from yesterday and some other garments were neatly placed near her bed instead. She reluctantly got dressed.

Of course they didn't fit. She looked like a child who had inherited her older sibling's clothes and nobody had bothered to alter them. Not that sewing was one of her greater skills, but she sure hoped her host had needle and thread somewhere. She would not spend her days like this.

Hauling up the leggings (seriously, how long legs did this guy have?), she stepped into the other room. Breakfast was indeed ready. Some weird meat she didn't recognize, but it tasted good.

It was still raining outside, but a lot less than yesterday.

When she looked up from her meal she found Loki watching her comtemplatively. She realized in that moment that his eyes were green in color; something she hadn't noticed before. Hadn't paid attention really, with so much else on her mind.  
"To your liking?" he asked, referring to the meal.  
"Yes, very much."  
"Good," he concluded and went back to the book he was holding. A different one from yesterday, she noticed.

She finished eating and voluntarily cleared the table, before turning to the window. The rain had slowed down to a trickle now, but it still didn't look too inviting.  
"We could take a walk later," Loki said behind her back, "if you don't mind getting wet."  
"I guess." She wasn't sure why it suddenly seemed more appealing with his company, but it did. 

_Weird. I actually want to take beach walks with someone who attacked my planet and destroyed half a city?_

Appearently she did. Better not thinking about how disturbing that was.

Loki was slowly growing on her, if you could say that after just two days. He had been decent to her most of the time, almost nice on occasion. Impatient, yes, but overall... bearable.

She still wouldn't forgive him for abducting her though. There had to be a way back.

She turned to face him, nervous about adressing him, being the one initiating contact.  
"Is there something I can do about these clothes?" she asked, indicating herself. "Do you mind if I alter them?"  
He lifted his gaze from the book and looked her over.  
"Yes... that needs to be dealt with," he agreed. "Unfortunately I cannot request more fitting garments from Asgard or it will raise suspicion."

They spent the next hour fixing her clothes into a better fit with a combination of sewing and magic.  
"What happened to my old clothes?" she asked.  
"I presumed you would prefer having them cleaned before wearing them again," he answered.

Yes, that would be nice, especially since she had spent one night sleeping in them as well as wearing them through the day.

He was running his hand along her leg, tightening the fit somehow. She saw glimpses of green light flashing from his palm and absorb into the fabric.  
"Be still!" he scolded.  
"I can't help it, I'm ticklish," she answered back, flinching again. It was not something she'd ever been good at hiding. There was also something unsettling about him touching her thighs in such a... _caressing_ manner but, bearing yesterday's conversation in mind, she didn't say that out loud.

Instead she found herself staring down at his hair and contemplating how dark it was. Like a winter night sky. She'd always found black hair beautiful.  
At least she would have something nice to look at while spending her days as the pet of an exiled god.

* * *

They walked along the waterline with a thin mist of rain around them. She still kept her distance, though it hardly mattered anymore. It was not like she could go anywhere.  
She wondered how other people would have handled being thrown into an alternative dimension like she had. Would they be crying, raging, desperately trying to find their way back? Or would they be quietly adapting, waiting for an opportunity like she was?  
There was no way to know.

How had Loki reacted when he'd first found himself in this predicament?

"You never told me how long you've been here," she said.  
"Close to one and a half year," he answered after some thought.  
"All alone?"  
"Yes."  
"How do you cope?" She was not the most social person, but living like a hermit for over a year...  
"As I said before, I can sometimes sense the presence of your people on the other side. Some days... the wall is thinner than others."  
"But you can't reach them, like talk or..."  
"Not communicate, no. You were different, but I could not connect with you on a conscious level, only a deeper one."

No, she had certainly not been conscious of someone... _spying_ on her.  
"Did you read my thoughts?" She stopped abruptly.  
"I did not." He stopped as well, turning to face her. "I merely sensed your essence, so to speak."

She began walking again, and he gracefully resumed his earlier pace.

_This guy moves like a cat._

She envied that. Maybe it was one of those skills that took centuries to perfect.

"How old are you?" she blurted out before realizing it might not be an appropriate thing to ask.  
He raised an eyebrow.  
"Is there a reason why you so urgently need to know my age?"  
"No, I'm sorry. My thoughts were kind of... going off a tangent."  
"I've lived a little over a thousand years," he said, seemingly amused at her confusion."  
"Whoa!" She wasn't sure how to comment on that.

They continued in silence for a while. The waterline was moving higher, tide coming in.  
"We should head back before the rain grows heavy," Loki said and steered her in the right direction.

They were almost back at the house when it happened as predicted, fine drops turning into bigger ones. They had been wearing protective garments over their regular clothes this time so no need for changing, but her shoes were wet, so she took them off to walk barefoot over the floor.  
Her hair was damp as well, but no more than she could live with.

The air inside felt raw, though she didn't want to complain about it, thinking it best to be careful still. Instead she wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm. It didn't take long before Loki noticed it. He went into the other room, soon to come back with a piece of cloth that he draped over her shoulders.  
"I tend to forget that you must be more sensitive to cold than I am," he said and went to heat some water for tea.  
The cloth was surprisingly warm, temperature rising as she wore it. Strange material. She snuggled into it with childish delight. It had a faint scent to it, she noticed then. Not unpleasant, but somewhat familiar. She glanced towards Loki. Hadn't she seen this same cloth on his bed earlier?

There was that... intimacy thing again. She wasn't sure if she was comfortable with it or not, but it was hard to avoid when they lived so close together. She might have to get used to it.

_For the time being. I'm not going to stay here forever._

At least that was her hope. To find her way home somehow.

Loki brought tea to the table and she tasted it carefully, trying not to burn herself in the process. It had a flavour she didn't recognize from any teas she'd tried in the past.  
"I'm guessing this is from Asgard too?"  
"From Vanaheim, actually." Loki put his own cup on the table and sat down. "My mother... used to like it." His expression changed, closed, as if he'd said something he hadn't intended, but the moment quickly passed.

"Have you been there?" she asked. "At those places you mentioned."  
"I have," he said. "I've visited all the realms, some more than once."  
"What are they like?"  
He watched her pensively, then began to talk. And somehow the time passed as he did. Tea was sipped and refilled, rain turning from a pour to a trickle, and for a few hours she forgot where she was. She was listening with fascination as he described the wonders of foreign worlds, of events taking place in times before she was even born.

Later, when she was in bed, her thoughts kept coming back to it. It was a remarkable realization, that those realms existed out there and had their own history, just like hers. That the world was so much bigger than she'd ever been aware of. It was breathtaking, and she ached from longing to see them with her own eyes, to visit the places she'd never before known existed.

She hadn't cared about what impression she gave, if Loki would find her naive or silly for being so awed. It was not like she'd ever been good at hiding her true feelings anyway. She was passionate by nature, especially about things that genuinely caught her interest. Mostly things that other people couldn't care less about, and hence didn't understand her excitement.

So, there were perks to her predicament. If she just could have been sure that she'd eventually find a way back to her own world, she might even have enjoyed this. The underlying fear poisoned her experience, but once she was home safe...

There were sounds of restlessness coming from the other end of the room.The light had gone out a while ago, but Loki seemed to have trouble sleeping. Every few minutes he tossed and turned, making a frustrated groan before settling in again. She had no idea what was bothering him, and she sure as hell wasn't going to ask. Don't poke the bear, and all that. Though he was behaving most of the time there were moments when he became downright scary; she would not trigger one of those if she could avoid it.

Eventually she drifted off to sleep, somewhere in the middle of imagining a visit to Vanaheim.


	5. Mood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think it was going to go smoothly from here, did you?

Loki was in a bad mood. She felt it the moment she set foot in the kitchen that morning. His facial expression, his curt movements... He virtually radiated irritability. She couldn't recall doing anything that might have provoked it, so maybe he'd just slept badly. She kept her distance and stayed quiet, just to be safe.

The clouds had dispersed over night and the rain given way to bright sunlight. She took the opportunity to flee the house that now seemed unbearably small, as Loki's temper took up a lot of space. Instead she ended up walking barefoot at the waterline, searching for seashells.

It was weird how nature lived on like nothing was amiss, while any trace of human existence seemed completely eradicated. She also wondered how big this alternate dimension was. If it was created, as Loki had hinted, it should have limits, shouldn't it? They couldn't have constructed an entire planet, could they?

She leaned down to dip her hand in the water. It felt as real as everything else. Still chilly, since it was early in the day, but by noon it would be warm enough to immerse in would she want to. Of course getting naked under these circumstances didn't seem overly appealing. She looked around, but didn't see Loki anywhere. She straightened up and kept walking.

It was difficult to connect the man she'd heard about on the news as a ruthless war criminal with what she'd witnessed yesterday. Loki's dark, and quite pleasant, voice telling her stories about other realms. His concern about her being cold. His taking time and effort to help adjusting her clothes. Which was technically his clothes, come to think of it.

She looked out over the water, glittering in the sun and reaching for as far as she could see. There was a certain beauty in the silence and the solitude, but also a sadness clinging to everything, and she wasn't sure if it was her own separation or something else that made her feel it. Maybe it was Loki's fate that affected her, but she wasn't sure about that either. Why would it? He had abducted her, stolen her, as he called it, and he was a thousand years old. What would a year and a half of isolation mean to him? Probably nothing in comparison. She shouldn't feel sorry for him.

She turned and started walking back, didn't want to risk him getting upset because she was gone for too long. Also, she was getting thirsty. The sand was soft under her feet so she stayed barefoot, enjoying the sensation under her soles. Tactile stimulation was her thing and one of the reasons she enjoyed the beach so much. Her fingers caressed the seashells she was carrying; some rough, others smooth. The sun on her face was pleasant too and she closed her eyes for a bit, walking blind while experiencing all the physical sensations.

When she finally reached the house she found Loki sitting outside on the wood bench thing, repairing a fishing net. It suddenly reminded her of a myth she'd heard years ago. Something about transforming into a salmon and being caught in a net of his own making.

"So, you find it timely to grace me with your appearence now?" he said sarcastically.  
"I thought you needed some space," she said, approaching him cautiosly.  
"Don't lie to me."  
"Okay, I needed some space." She sat down beside him, but like the first day she left some distance between them. She fiddled with the seashells, rolling them between her fingers to ease her discomfort. Her eyes kept being drawn to the net between his long dextrous fingers.  
"Do you know that we have myths about you?" she asked, hoping she wasn't stepping in it too deep.  
"I'm aware, yes."

She paused, curious but uncertain on how to continue. He wasn't overly responsive, despite being so displeased that she had gone off and ignored him earlier.

"Are any of them true?"  
He took a deep breath and turned the net over.  
"From what I gather they were weaved from the imaginations of mortals who didn't have the capacity to understand what they were seeing. What is to be expected by a primitive civilization such as yours."

_Back to being rude it is._

"Well, we have evolved a bit since then. And whatever you can say about my people, we _are_ creative."  
He gave her a look.  
"Creative in killing and maiming each other? Most certainly."

Now, that was low. 

"And your people are better? Who creates a prison out of another dimension and leaves you to go crazy from loneliness? We call that solitary confinement and it's considered a..."  
He suddenly grabbed her wrist and bared his teeth.  
"You think you can compare our worlds? Mine is so far above yours you couldn't comprehend it."  
"Then why haven't they found better ways to handle criminals than we have?" she persisted, ignoring the danger. She was too heated to stop. "Why did they send you here instead of having some fancy way to rehabilitate you? What did you do anyway, besides attacking Earth?" 

He was looking weirdly calm, apart from the green eyes narrowing at her.  
"You are one inquisitive little mortal," he said slowly.  
"I'm not little!" she objected, somewhat offended.  
"Oh, but you are. Your lifespan is ridiculously short, and your body so fragile it would take little more than a flick of my fingers to break it." He tightened his grip on her arm. "Shall I demonstrate?" 

There was something dark in his eyes; a warning of something more sinister than he usually let on. When she tried to pull away she found that she couldn't.  
"Let go of me!"  
His hand didn't budge.  
"I will treat you as it pleases me, little pet. You are at my mercy, and I suggest you keep that in mind, would you be tempted to defy me." 

That triggered her fury. The audacity of this man, thinking he could...  
"I do what the fuck I want! You kidnapped me, you _forced_ me to come here, didn't even ask. What the hell is wrong with you, thinking you can do what you want with other people?"  
"I am a god," he hissed, grabbing her other arm as well and pulling her towards him. "You are beneath me in every way, and I can force you to submit to me in any way I desire." 

This was uncomfortably close and she could feel his breath on her face. He _was_ stronger, there was no denying that fact, and probably more than capable of following through with his threats. 

"So kill me then, and rot away here all alone!"  
He pinched her arms painfully.  
"There are worse things than death," he growled. "I should know. Oh, you have no idea how the right kind of pain and humiliation can break you and turn you into something else. If you're lucky you come out stronger, if not..." 

He looked like a predator, ready to attack. She'd never seen so much rage in one person, so much desperation. 

"What happened to you?" she said, and she didn't know where the words came from or what made her say them in the first place. She should have raged back, or stayed quiet out of self-preservation, but instead she asked a question which made no sense as a reaction to his aggression. There was something in his words, in his eyes, in his revelation, that spoke of more than anger. Something hidden in there that she couldn't put words on, only _sense_. 

_What happened to you?_

He stared at her for a moment, then let go, almost pushing her away, before getting up and heading into the house, jaw tight with tension.  
She remained, rubbing her bruised wrists before picking the seashells off the ground where they'd fallen. The world felt eerily quiet. 

* * *

It was more than an hour before she dared enter the house after him, but by now she was so thirsty she had to, or she would resort to drinking seawater.  
Tip-toeing inside there was no sign of him in the outer room so she found water quickly and gulped it down before he might show up. Listening intently for any sound of him approaching she found herself something to eat as well. They lived mainly on fish and meat, so she didn't get hungry too often, but if she needed to stay away from Loki longer it was probably best to eat when she had the chance. 

Self-doubt gnawed at her. What if she had ruined all her chances by reacting the way she did? What if he'd decide to dispose of her or worse, make real of his threats? If there was a way to send her back to her own world he might do that, but what if not? What if he'd actually been telling the truth and there was no way back? 

That was her last flicker of hope; that he'd been lying all along. 

She picked at the seashells, listening to the clicking sound they made against the table surface. She examined the wood. It was of a kind she'd never seen; dark in color and harder than any she'd encountered before. She wondered if the furniture came from Asgard too, this mysterious realm where legends originated and her host had spent the majority of his lifetime. Somewhere out there, among the stars... 

She looked up and found Loki standing in her visual field. Her eyes darted to the door but it was too far away. She wasn't done eating yet, or she would have been gone already. Fuck! 

He didn't say anything, only looked at her, and she wasn't sure what else to do than look back. It wasn't the time to show fear, she figured, so she didn't avert her eyes or let herself shy away from his presence. She just braced herself for whatever sharp words he was going to stab her with. 

They didn't come. He turned away and searched for something in a cupboard, then simply walked out. It felt like an anticlimax, but she eventually managed to relax a little. Enough to finish her meal anyway. 

She managed to leave without running into him and remained outside till sunset. Her own anger had long since faded when she returned, but her wariness came back as she entered the house. Maybe staying away so long hadn't been a good idea; it only made things more awkward when returning. 

She entered the inner room only to stop abruptly. Loki was standing next to his bed half naked, a tunic in his hands as if he'd just removed it. His upper body was as pale a color as his face and hands, with long, wellshaped muscles under the skin, and right on his chest, close to the heart, was a prominent, completely black scar. 


	6. Lost wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between night and morning, hope and despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T.W. Talk about suicide

She stared. Loki followed her gaze and turned away, only to reveal a similar scar on his back. The implication was unsettling.  
"Are you done gawking at me like a creature in an exhibit?" he said, "or shall I provide you with entertainment as well?"  
"Sorry, sorry," she mumbled and moved on to her own bed as quickly as possible, straightening the curtain after her. She removed her clothes and crawled into bed with nearly automatic movements. Her mind was so occupied with what she'd just seen she forgot to question whether she was actually tired enough to sleep yet.

Listening to his movements she heard him settling in on his own bed, followed by the soft sound of book pages turning. She fell asleep surprisingly quickly, only to wake up in the middle of night with an uneasy feeling. It didn't leave her alone. Tossing and turning to the point she was afraid of waking Loki she decided to put clothes on and tip-toe outside.

It was a clear night, with the sky full of stars. There were no cities nearby to pollute the sight and she stopped in her tracks just to take it in.

It was when her eyes wandered towards the horizon she noticed a darker shadow not far from the waterline.

Something compelled her to walk in that direction. She had no doubt that he could hear her, despite her being barefoot on the soft ground. There seemed to be few things escaping his keen alien senses.

When she stopped close to where Loki was sitting, forearms resting on his raised knees, she noticed the blade in his hands. A knife, or a dagger, she couldn't tell, but he was absently running his fingers along it while staring out over the dark water. The sea was calm, moving in slow ripples where the starlight reflected.  
The sense of unease that had woken her was stronger now.  
"What are you thinking about?" she asked and sat down cautiously next to him.  
He looked down on the blade, turning it in his hands.  
"About the futility of changing one's destiny, I suppose."  
"What does that mean?"  
He ran a fingernail along the edge.  
"Did you know that I was abandoned soon after I was born? King Laufey couldn't have a son that was too small and weak to be a true heir, so he left me in a temple to perish. My birthright was to die, as Odin Allfather so delicately put it."  
"I... didn't know that."

She had no idea who king Laufey was, but Loki's words were deeply disturbing. She wasn't sure how to properly respond to such a revelation.  
"How come you lived?" she asked.  
The wind was moving through Loki's hair, which he, for once, hadn't bothered to slick back.  
"I was taken in... by Odin and Frigga, raised as their own."  
"And Thor is your..."  
"Adoptive brother, yes. Of course nobody could be bothered to tell me what I really was." There was a distinct bitterness to his voice, mixed with resignation.  
"So how did you find out?"

He remained quiet for a while, still focused on the blade in his hands as it reflected the moonlight.  
"That is a story for another time," he finally said. "It matters little now, in any case."

She looked up at the stars surrounding them, and suddenly thought of it as if someone had carved out their little piece of a world and placed a dome over it, closing it off from the rest of the universe. Her own world was as unreachable now as those tiny lights far away.

"How did you get that scar?" she asked.  
Loki stiffened for a moment, then relaxed.  
"I was pierced by a dark elf's blade and left for dead," he said, with little to no emotion.  
She looked at him.  
"How did you survive that?"  
He shrugged.  
"I am not entirely sure," he admitted. "I suspect it had something to do with another creature's blood that was already on the weapon. That it contained certain properties which made it possible for me to... resist the blood loss and heal faster."

That was strange. Ir sounded more like something from a story than from real life. But so did many things Loki had told her.

"Does it repulse you?" he asked without looking at her.  
"The scar? No. I just... I've never seen a black one before. I thought scars were usually light in color?"  
"Supporting my theory about the blood," Loki said. "I appear to heal faster from injuries ever since."

They sat in silence for another while, listening to the endless rippling of water against the shore.

It was chilly this time of night, since there were no clouds to keep the day's warmth from seeping out into space, yet she didn't feel overly uncomfortable. It was summer, after all. She had to wonder what is was like to live here when winter came.  
"You're good at surviving," she said.  
"That I am." He looked down at his dagger. "There are times I even wonder..."  
"What?"  
"If it would work to cut deep enough to bleed, before going into the water. If it would truly weaken me enough."  
She felt cold, but not from the night air. That haunting feeling of unease was back with a vengeance.  
"That's not why you came out here, was it?"  
He didn't answer, merely pursed his lips and looked at his hands.  
"Loki..." She wasn't sure what to say. She wasn't sure what she _wanted_ to say.

Once more he had that otherworldly look about him, with the sharp contrast between his skin, even paler in the moonlight, and the raven black hair framing his face. The high cheekbones added to the effect. He made her think of an angel who'd lost his wings.

"I will find a way to return you to your world first," he said, "so you're not left alone here."  
"Why not work on a way to get yourself out as well then? If it can be done."  
"You don't think I've tried?" he lashed out, face twisted in rage. "You think I have spent a year and half in this wretched existence simply resigning to my fate?"  
"No, but..."  
"You don't think I've done everything in my power to find a way out of here?"  
"Stop!" she shouted. "I get it! But how are you going to get me out if you can't even free yourself?"

He looked down, a last look at the dagger before putting it away, and gazed out towards the sea again. When he spoke his voice was calmer.  
"You are mortal; that might make it easier. Or perhaps I can drop the cloaking spell and make you visible to Heimdall. If you're lucky they will send someone to bring you back. I would not count too much on the mercy of Asgard, however." His voice turned bitter at the uttering of the last sentence.

No, from the look of things, neither would she.

She stood up and held out her hand, trying not to think too much about what she was doing.  
"Would you mind going inside? I know you don't get cold, but I do, and... I don't think I can sleep yet."  
He gave her a thoughtful look, but finally stood and took her hand briefly before walking back into the house.

They ended up by the table, once again with the Vanaheim tea. She was glad he hadn't gone for the wine. Moody men and alcohol was rarely a good combination.  
"Do you hate me?" Loki asked after a prolonged silence.  
"No," she found herself answering. "I don't hate you, I'm not sure what I feel, really." She paused, trying to put words on it. "I think I would even like you, if... if the circumstances had been different."

_If you hadn't kidnapped me. If you hadn't attacked my world._

It disturbed her that he came off so... human. Not just in appearance, but emotionally as well. Passionate and proud and quick to anger. It would have been so much easier to hate him if he'd just been cold and uncaring. Instead she found herself sympathizing with him.

The conflict made her head hurt. She sipped her tea and tried to think of something else.  
"Do you wish to know why he really sent me here?" Loki said. She looked up to meet his gaze.  
"Why?"  
"To hide the shame of his biggest mistake, erasing it from memory, making sure that it would never be heard of again." His face hardened. "A cell was no longer enough, I had to be driven out of Asgardian existence all together."

_Out of existence all together..._

"Then why do they keep you alive? Wouldn't it be easier to..." She didn't finish the sentence.  
Loki huffed.  
"Oh, I have asked myself... Perhaps it's still about honoring mother's wish of not seeing me executed, though she is not around to see it upheld anymore. Or it may be my dear _brother_ who somehow has convinced the Allfather that I shouldn't be left to perish all together. And wouldn't it be just like that sentimental fool to do such a thing?" Loki leaned back against the wall and rubbed a hand over his eyes. There was not as much anger as weariness in his voice at this point.

They went to bed when the dawn started to break, sky turning color and the first streaks of natural light seeping in through the windows. They then slept till midday when Loki woke her up, requesting she join him for a late breakfast. She watched him carefully, but he didn't allude to any of the happenings the previous day, or their conversation during the night.

She took a walk with him as was becoming their habit, talking interspersed with silence. She found that Loki was different from most people she was used to being around, in that the silence didn't get awkward. He didn't demand they fill every moment with chatter, and she didn't end up feeling inadequate for not doing so.

"Do you collect these?" Loki asked, indicating the seashell in her hand. She suddenly felt self-conscious, realizing he must have seen the ones she picked up yesterday, now stored next to her bed.  
"I just like them. They're nice to hold and to look at."  
He looked at her searchingly, then held out his hand. She gave him the shell and he ran his fingers over it.

She was so absorbed watching what he was doing that she tripped, not seeing where she was setting her foot. He caught her arm without even looking, only releasing her when she'd regained her balance.

"You are a sensual creature, are you not?" he said and returned the seashell. It took a moment before she grasped what he meant.  
"Yes, I like... touching things. Looking at them too. I had sensory issues when I was younger and..." She stopped herself before revealing too much. No point in being too personal, however tempting it might seem right now.  
"Hmm..." was all he said at the time. It was only on their way back, this time through the wooded area, that he brought it up again.  
"What happened when you were younger?" he asked.  
"I was... It's no big deal, I was just easily overstimulated. Hard, loud sounds and all that. Certain surfaces, things that weren't smooth. It made me uncomfortable."

She didn't look at him as she spoke, feeling a bit vulnerable at mentioning these things, so often labelled "silly" by others.  
"And you are not anymore?"  
"Not so much." In truth it was a relief to be in a bubble like this. No traffic sounds, phones ringing or random music from any and all directions. Only the sounds of nature and their voices. It was so much easier to focus, so much clearer to think.

Loki looked thoughtful, but didn't ask anything more.


	7. Hunter and prey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't challenge a master of magic.

The days passed, life falling into a rythm. Her cell phone died after she'd forgotten to turn it off one morning and her last tentative link to the outside world was gone. Loki's temper flares were fewer and far between; she rarely needed to flee the house just to escape them.

One early morning he took her along to check on the traps he'd set and they found a rabbit caught in one of them. She was disgusted but Loki seemed pleased.  
He insisted that she'd learn how to skin it, clearly amused by her discomfort. Before she realized what he was doing he had dragged a finger over her cheek, leaving a bloody streak behind. Her cursing made him laugh.

"There are times when you have to fend for yourself," he explained. "If you're alone in the wilderness there'll be no markets and servants to attend to your needs. You'd do well becoming used to it."  
"Is that how you learned it?" she asked, wiping her face and grimacing at the blood smell.  
"All warriors of Asgard learn this," he said, eyes on the carcass he was expertly handling. "Long before we may need it. Some even hunt for the sheer enjoyment of it."

If she ever got back to her own world she would appreciate the hell out of her local food store.

"I don't think I'll ever get to that point," she said, followed by a "Yeesh!" as he twisted the rabbit's head clean off. Loki chuckled. She'd never seen him enjoying himself this much before, and it was not the handling of a dead animal that delighted him.

"Now place your hand here," he ordered, and she obliged hesitantly, wincing at the slippery feeling of raw meat under her palm. Her help wasn't necessary, of course; he must have done this lots of times on his own, but he seemed set on desentisizing her at every cost. "You should be grateful I am so much more patient than the one who taught me."  
"Really?" She had her doubts.  
"He was an aged warrior who had only the barest patience for 'spoiled little princes' as he called us. Not when our fath... when Odin could hear, of course. He would also curse us out when we made a mistake or didn't listen."  
"You got cursed at a lot?" she asked curiously.  
"Not as much as Thor, I can assure you. I was called... well, I learned quickly, it's safe to say."

She would have wanted to know what he'd been called, but there was a change to his demeanor that told her to keep quiet. Unpleasant memory, she guessed.

"Needless to say, we learned quite a vocabulary from him. Mother was less than pleased when we let such words slip in her presence."  
She couldn't resist giggling. The scene was too easy to imagine. 

Loki bit his lip and continued working while telling her more anecdotes. Listening to him made the task a lot more bearable. Life in Asgard was so different in some ways and yet... so similar in others.

"Tradition seems to be a big thing for your people," she commented when the worst was done and she finally could wash her hands. The meat was cooking and the pelt was cleaned, waiting to be dealt with later.  
"It would seem so to your eyes since we live so much longer. Your world changes ridiculously fast."

She hadn't really thought of it that way, never having had an outsider's perspective before.

"I don't know about ridiculous... Don't you get tired of everything being the same? What if you really want a change and have to wait an eternity for it to happen? Here things only changes when the old people retire or die off." Yes, it was crudely put, but also true.  
"It can be frustrating," he admitted, "but you need to know how to affect people, how to get them to see the benefits of a change."

The way he spoke of it made her wonder if he was good at that very thing. It sounded so easy, so confident as he said it.

It was pleasant to be around Loki when he was in such a good mood, relaxing even. Maybe a little too relaxing. He was focused on cleaning his hands when she saw an opportunity to get him back for bloodying her cheek. Without thinking she grabbed the nearest object and threw it into the water, making it splash up and hit his face and hair. He stiffened.

_Oh crap! I better run now._

It was only a half serious thought, but before she could move he turned his head and gave her a look. Then, somehow, a large bubble of pink water rose from the basin, travelled through the air and burst over her head.  
"Nooo! How...?"  
"Don't challenge a Master of Magic unless you're willing to deal with the consequenses," Loki said, but he didn't sound angry. He emptied out the water and replaced it with fresh to rinse his face.  
"It's not really fair, is it?" she complained.  
"If things were fair neither of us would be here," he pointed out and reached for a towel before nudging her towards the basin. She cleaned up as much as she could, but had a feeling she would want to do it more thoroughly later to get all traces of rabbit blood out of her hair.  
"Maybe I should just take a swim in the ocean," she said.  
"That may be a good idea," he agreed.

* * *

When she came out of the water the beach seemed empty, but once she'd gotten dressed Loki appeared on a cliff nearby, like he'd been there all along.  
"Were you watching me?" she asked suspiciously after climbing up to where he was sitting. The smirk on his face certainly indicated as much.  
"Perhaps," he said ambiguously. "You looked like you were enjoying yourself."  
"Don't you have better things to do?" She sat down next to him, subconsciously pulling the tunic tighter around herself.  
"I only watched while you were in the water, not when you came out of it," he assured her.  
"I certainly hope so."  
He smiled, evidently taking pleasure in teasing her.

She looked around. It was a good place to sit and have an overview over this part of the beach. The only disadvantage was the lack of shadow; it would quickly be too hot in this weather.  
"How come I didn't see you?" she asked.  
"Perhaps your eyes aren't sharp enough," he suggested, "or you were distracted." He looked past her, sounding innocent. A little too innocent.  
"That's not it," she said, fixating her gaze on him. "You hid yourself somehow... Magic?"  
"I'm pleased to see you're not quite as dull as the average Midgardian," Loki said. "Magic is the answer indeed."  
"Not _quite_ as dull? You never run out of insults, do you?"  
Loki smiled widely, eyes glittering with mischief.  
"It would take a long time, I assure you."

She had the tempting idea to push him into the ocean, but doubted it would work. As demonstrated he was a lot faster than she was, and stronger too, despite his lean build.

She made herself comfortable, feeling strangely at ease with the man who had once tried to conquer her world.  
"Doesn't the sun bother you?" she asked. "I've never seen you get burned and we're outside every day."  
"Your sun is not strong enough to harm me. Perhaps in my natural form, but even so I would heal before it could do permanent damage."

Natural form? She looked at him, mystified.  
"What do you mean?"  
"I told you who my father was, did I not?"  
"Yes, but the name doesn't tell me anything."  
"Laufey was the king of Jotunheim, the realm of frost giants," Loki said. There was a subtle, but undeniable distaste in his voice. "The climate there is a lot colder, and darker, than you would have experienced in your world."  
"Okay... so how do they survive there?"

Loki seemed to ponder the question before he answered.  
"By sheer belligerence, some would say. In truth they hunt and fish, and keep some amount of domesticated animals for supplying milk and blood."  
"And they're adapted to the cold?"  
"They are," Loki confirmed. "They are extremely cold by themselves and will cause frost burn by their very touch if they so desire."  
She shuddered, partly because of what he was revealing and partly because of the tone of his voice. If someone like Loki found them unpleasant how scary wouldn't they be to humans?

"But you're not," she said, confused. "You're not much colder than anyone else I know. A little, but..."  
He shifted positions slightly, looking more tense the longer their conversation went on.  
"Because this isn't my true form. Appearently frost giant infants have the ability to mimic another's appearence to some degree. Little is known about it, but it's likely a survival trait. When I was found by Odin I would have instinctively taken on the form of an Asgardian to protect myself from harm."

She had to think about this. I sounded so foreign, but the reasoning made sense. A survival mechanism...  
"And you still look like one? You never... reverted back?"  
"The ability seem to be lost after a certain age. I grew up in Asgard and didn't know what I was until... merely a few years ago in your time count. My real form only emerges under excessive cold."  
"So what would you look like?"

She didn't want to push him when he was so obviously uncomfortable, but she was _curious_ , damn it. Loki telling stories had an effect on her that few things did. It always made her want more. 

He took a breath.  
"I would be blue in color with certain... markings. My eyes would be different as well."

She tried to imagine it, finding that she couldn't.

"I suggest you don't," he said, as if reading her thoughts. "It's not a pleasing sight."

"In mythology they call you a shapeshifter," she remembered. "Is that because of this?"  
"Most unlikely," Loki said. "Only Odin and Frigga knew the truth of my heritage. Your stories would come from my use of illusions, nothing else."  
"Handy talent," she said.  
"It's a skill," he corrected, "but yes, it comes in handy at times."

As they left the subject of frost giants behind he began to relax again. The playful glimpse in his eyes came back and in the middle of demonstrating his ability to create illusions he suddenly vanished. 

She reached out to touch the air around her but felt nothing but emptiness. So this was how he had managed to hide himself while she was swimming. She walked around with her arms outstretched. The cliff wasn't that big; unless he climbed down she should be able to find him pretty soon.

It came as a total surprise when two arms grabbed her from behind and forced her towards the very edge of the cliff, the water not far below.  
"You wouldn't dare!" she shrieked, struggling against the invisible grip.  
"Oh, wouldn't I?" he chuckled in her ear. "You really think this is a time for challenging me, little pet?"

She held on to his arms around her middle, trying to break his hold without success. It was really weird to feel something that visibly wasn't there.  
"I'm not a pet, and I'll never forgive you if you do this."  
"You wouldn't have much choice," he said, clearly enjoying himself. "Since you're stuck here with me for an unforeseeable future you would have to reconcile sooner or later."

Maybe, but that went two ways.  
"I would find a way to get back at you," she warned. "Throw a bucket of water over you when you sleep or something."  
His grip tightened, her feet now hanging in the air, but he didn't let go.  
"You think I would let you get away with such a thing?" he asked.  
"You'd have to reconcile sooner or later."

For a moment his grip loosened and she closed her eyes for the drop, but he caught her again, right under her arms, then lifted her back to put her down on her feet. With a barely noticeble delay he withdrew, now fully visible.  
"I suggest you think very carefully before you attempt anything of the kind," he said, but there was no trace of anger in his voice.


	8. Intimate moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The magic of world building and some closeness in the eye of the storm.

She walked in on him more than once. It was unavoidable when they lived so close together. Though she tried not to stare she caught more glimpses of his naked skin than she would have cared for, and the black scars on his chest and back turned out not to be the only ones. The rest were more normal looking, but haunting none the less. Some were faded, barely visible, others standing out like bright reminders of whatever painful experience would have caused them.

She itched to ask, but feared it too intrusive. He was clearly self conscious about them, and she doubted he would take well to nosy questions. Now things were going well between them she was not going to rock the boat just to satisfy some childish curiousity.

And then she dreamed. She wasn't sure how to feel about it. It wasn't the first time she'd had dreams about her present situation, but this was different. She was at that cliff again, where Loki had held her over the edge, and he was holding her the the same way now, arms around her waist. Except... she could feel his bare skin against her back. He wasn't wearing anything above the waistline, and neither was she appearently.

It was a very pleasant feeling, the skin contact, and it felt natural somehow; the sensation lingered long after she woke up. Yet it was an awkward thing to have on her mind when she greeted him in the kitchen that morning. He was fully dressed, of course, and seated in a chair when she came out of the back room. 

Meeting his eyes she felt a slight flush on her cheeks.  
"You look rested," he commented.

She couldn't say the same about him.

"Did you have trouble sleeping again?" she asked, taking her place at the table.  
"Somewhat," he said curtly and changed subjects. They talked about lighter things, like the world they came from, things they'd done.  
"I used to go to the beach when it was empty," she said. "Mostly early mornings before work."

Work. She'd been absent without a word for more than two weeks. There was probably no work to come back to.

"Simply to wander?" Loki asked, watching his own finger sliding along the edge of his tea cup, but clearly listening.  
"Or sit. I had this place..." She thought back. "It's on the other end of the beach, right where the sand ends. There was a little space with trees protecting it from the wind and some rocks to sit on. I could sit there and watch the water move. It was almost like... meditation or something."  
"You have not shown it to me," Loki commented, voice neutral.  
"We didn't go that far," she said. "And I haven't used it in a while."  
"Why not?"

She hesitated, feeling a bit embarrassed for some reason.  
"There was a guy... who started bothering me when I sat there, so I stopped doing it."  
"Bothering you?" Loki raised an eyebrow, expecting more detail.  
She sighed.  
"He just wouldn't leave me alone. It took away the peace for me, so I stopped going there."

It was a loss, she felt it. She had really liked that place. But what could you do when people wouldn't respect your boundaries?

They kept quiet while finishing their breakfast and storing things away.  
"I don't wish to impose myself on you," Loki said when they were done. "If you desire to be alone, you can say so and I won't follow."  
"I know." She wanted to say that she didn't think of Loki the way she did that other, intrusive man, but wasn't sure how to put it. And then she wasn't sure why she didn't think of him like that. He'd done worse than stalking her, after all.

Ugh, it was just so complicated. Maybe she was getting too used to being here. Maybe she was developing Stockholm Syndrome. Or maybe he was manipulating her in some way.

No, it didn't feel right.

There were those moments when she had no doubt that he was honest, when he was showing raw emotion and nothing else. There was a lot beneath the surface and it was barely contained. Like the night when he'd talked about going into the water, or his anger when she'd been leaving him alone for too long. There was genuine pain there, and she couldn't escape it affecting her.

Making her care.

"I can show you the place if you want," she suggested, not looking at him as she spoke, then immediately feeling silly and expecting him to laugh at her for acting like such a thing was important. A place to watch the sea, that's all it was.

"If you don't mind," he said without mockery. "I would be pleased to see it."

* * *

"How far does this dimension go?" she wondered later, as they were approaching the end of the beach.  
"I have yet to see it's boundaries," Loki said, "but I doubt it goes on forever, or there would be little need to provide me with supplies."  
"Why did they chose to recreate a piece of Earth, of all places? Wouldn't it make more sense to make a dimension of Asgard, since there is where you're all from?"  
"Appearently Midgard is the easiest realm to manipulate in this way, one that requires the least effort. It takes powerful magic to carve out a side dimension and make it stable. In some places it is easier than in others."

They ran out of sand and she quickly found the spot between the trees. Everything was like she remembered it. It hit her that she could use it again. Noone would take it away from her this time.

"I still don't understand how you can make a copy of a piece of... reality," she said, sitting down on a flat rock sticking out of the ground. Loki took in their surroundings, touching a tree trunk, paying attention to it's details.  
"Magic of this kind is rarely wielded," he said. "It can be used to create worlds... or destroy them."  
"Why make so much effort for you?" she asked. "Are you really that dangerous?"

He took a seat near her.  
"Odin is loosing his wits, I believe. He's old and bitter. There is little he can do to change matters that have come to pass, so he strive to control what he can."  
"What are you looking for?" she wondered, noticing him holding his hand just above the ground.  
"There is a sense of magic in this spot. It might have been the reason you were drawn to this particular place."

He frowned and she watched curiously as his hand kept hovering over the grass, palm down. It looked like he was caressing something invisible.  
"I do believe..." he said, "we may have found one of the anchor spots of this world."  
"What is an anchor spot?"  
"An anchor is needed to keep the created dimension stable, to stop it from falling apart and fold into itself. There should be several, spread out over distance." 

He's eyes looked past her, towards the sea and what they could see of the beach from here.  
"You know a lot about this," she remarked.  
"I have studied certain aspects of it." He didn't dvelve into why or when. "The anchor attaches this world to yours, the one it's created from, like a nail fastening an item to the underlying surface."

The metaphor made perfect sense, she could picture it.  
"What would happen if an anchor came loose? Stopped working? Would this all disappear or...?"  
"If only one 'came loose' as you put it, this dimension could become distorted, but we would probably not see much of a difference. And it's highly unlikely that more than one would stop functioning."

She thought about it.  
"What about us? If this world were to fall apart, as you said, would we disappear with it? Just like that?"  
He seemed to think about it before answering. She was glad he took her questions seriously.  
"That... is uncertain," he finally admitted. "Perhaps, perhaps not. There is a possibility we would be thrown into the original world this dimension was created from, but I wouldn't count on it."

They walked back through the woods, wanting some variation in their surroundings. Loki seemed absorbed by thoughts, probably related to the conversation they'd been having. She thought it best not to disturb him.

* * *

He kept to his books the rest of the day, and she was left to her own devices. It gave her plenty of time to think about her situation. She was becoming more and more inclined to believe that Loki had been telling the truth; there was no way of return to her own world. At least not one he knew of.

Thus, her only hope would be Asgard.

The wind was picking up when she returned to the house after a few hours away. The waves were quickly growing bigger and dark clouds gathered at the horizon. She found Loki standing in the doorway, watching her sternly as she approached.  
"Where were you?" He indicated the clouds. "There is a storm coming."  
"I went swimming," she said. It was true, just not the whole truth. She had also wandered off to see if she could find a limit to their world, but not succeeded. It had taken longer to walk back than she had anticipated.

Once inside Loki closed the door and made a gesture, sealing it with magic.  
"I don't wish to go search for you because you can't be bothered to pay attention to warning signs."  
"Sorry." She wondered just how bad it was going to be. They'd had rough weather before, but not an actual storm. That Loki saw it necessary to use magic on the door was not a good sign, she figured.

It was less than an hour before she got her answer. The building was literally shaking.  
"Ehm... how much can this place take?" she wondered, trying to sound less concerned than she felt.  
"It is well reinforced," Loki said, sounding unbothered. "I learned over time. In the very first storm after I came here it all but came down over my head."

The mental image almost made her laugh, but she managed to hold back.  
"Sounds scary," she said instead and wandered aimlessly back and forth through the rooms. Loki was sitting on his bed, reading. After a while he put the book down.  
"Will you stop wandering like some haunted spirit? It is most irritating."  
"I can't help it," she defended herself. "I can't think of anything to do."  
He watched her for a moment, then moved to the side.  
"Come here!"

She hesitated but did what he asked, sat carefully down on the edge of his bed with her feet on the floor. He rolled his eyes at her.  
"I will not scold you for making yourself comfortable on my bedding."

Just then something hit the wall hard from outside and she jumped, scooting back and pulling her feet up almost in reflex. Loki didn't flinch.

"I should teach you to read," he said.  
"I can read."  
He showed her the page he had open.  
"Right," she said. "I can't read that." Asgardian letters were not something you'd learn in the average school on Earth.

Why was she so nervous? The storm was one thing, but sitting next to him... She had done it before, but not on his _bed_. It felt too intimate. Especially after that dream she'd had last night. Ugh, better not to think about that right now.

He reached for another book near his bedside.  
"I believe this is more to your liking. It tells stories from the nine realms, ones we were often listening to when younger."  
She noticed that the book showed signs of having been read many times, yet was well taken care off.

He settled in with his back to the wall and an arm resting on his knee, then began to read while she listened. The raging storm was soon forgotten, as the afternoon turned into evening and his soothing voice carried her away once more.


	9. Between storms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An awkward wake-up and a chance.

She woke up from movement behind her back. Something felt off, but it took a few seconds to figure out what it was.

_This is not my bed!_

Loki was getting up behind her, which meant he must have been lying down as well. Behind her. On his bed. Just how long...?  
"Is it morning?" she asked, checking that her clothes were still on.  
"It is yet early," he answered, "but the sun is up, yes."

She had a vague memory of feeling sleepy, but not of lying down. 

_Why didn't he wake me?_

She sat up, putting her feet on the floor. This was awkward.

Loki walked over the floor, dressed the same as yesterday. He was heading to the outer room. Soon after she could hear the sound of the front door being pushed open. Only then did she realize how quiet it was.

The storm had abated, that much was clear. When arriving outside she found branches and twigs scattered over the ground. Loki was throwing one of the bigger ones away with ridiculous ease.

She surveyed the house, but it seemed undamaged. Whether it was magic Loki had used to reinforce it or good old handiwork she didn't know, but there was barely a scratch visible.  
"You built this, didn't you?" she asked, realizing she'd never thought about where the house came from before.  
"It certainly wasn't here when I arrived," he said sarcastically and pushed another branch aside with his foot.

All alone, he had done whatever was needed to survive, using every resource available. Torn between hope and despair he had created a living space for himself and filled it with items from Asgard, not knowing if he'd ever see his home again, or any other realm for that matter.

Not knowing if he'd ever see another person again.

"What do I need to do?" she asked, trying to get away from the sudden emotion tightening her chest.  
"Clear this away. We don't want to stumble over it when the night comes."

True enough. It was not like they had indoor plumbing, and more than once she had felt her way through the dark with a hand on the wall for guidance. In moonlight it was easy enough, but half the time she could barely see where she put her foot, and she'd rather not twist an ankle. Or worse, fall on her ass and have Loki tease her about it for days to come.

She set to work cleaning up, leaving thoughts about their bed-sharing for later.

* * *

Loki started giving her lessons in Asgardian in the evenings, insisting that she should be able to read to pass the time. He wasn't the most patient of teachers, but he seemed to find it enjoyable. In fact, he seemed to delight in it. At first they would sit by the table in the outer room, but over time they gravitated to sitting on his bed instead, like they'd done the evening of the storm: next to each other, shoulders touching and hands occasionally brushing against each other. 

She found herself relaxing around him. Increasingly often they would joke and tease each other, or just quietly spend time in each other's company. Often she forgot completely who he was and what he had done. It should have been disturbing, but she found more and more that she didn't care.

And then they got a visitor.

The woman had long, dark hair in a pony-tail, and wore armour like she'd only ever seen in movies before. There was a round, labyrinth-like pattern on the ground nearby, and she wondered if it had something to do with the strange light phenomena she had witnessed earlier.

She hadn't been at the house when it happened, but at her place at the end of the beach. Whatever it was it didn't look normal and she had hurried to get back, only to encounter the woman and Loki in a heated argument.

She slowed her steps when approaching, but the stranger must have heard and turned her head.  
"So that is her. Just as Heimdall stated."

Loki's hands were tightened into fists, his jaw tense, like he was just on the verge of unleashing his anger. It wouldn't take much. She hastened her steps.  
"What's going on?" she asked once reaching the spot where they stood.  
"This is lady Sif," Loki said, dark venom in his voice, "from Asgard."  
"I am here to escort you back to your world," Sif said, unphased by the hostility.  
"Why?" was the word that spontaneously slipped out of her mouth.  
"Because you don't belong here. Loki abducted you and I will be bringing you home, by order of the Allfather."

So this was it.

"What if I don't want to go back?" she asked.  
Sif looked at her, frowning slightly, probably confused but hiding it well.  
"You cannot tell me you wish to remain here, with him."  
Before she could think too much, she retorted:  
"And if I do? Does his punishment have to take away my wishes as well?"

Sif turned back to Loki.  
"I will speak with her alone."  
Loki's jaw tightened once more, but he turned around and left without a word. His back was rigid as he walked into the house with long strides and disappeared out of sight.

Sif gestured to her to start walking and they wandered along the coastline, further away from the house. Further out of hearing distance.  
"Heimdall was not able to see you until today, so we were not aware of what Loki had done. You would not be here by a slip of fate; he would have to have brought you here deliberately."  
"So you're going to punish him for that too?"  
Sif looked at her measuringly.  
"What has he done to you?"  
"Not much. He brought me here, true, but nothing since. He just wanted company, and I can see why. You condemn him to total isolation here. He can sense other people, but not reach out to them. How do you think that feels?"  
Sif pursed her lips.  
"You are not aware of the crimes he has committed, or how dangerous he truly is. He may even have put you under a spell to make you think higher of him. If so you would not be aware of it."

She felt offended, but thought it best not to show it. Keeping calm was the only way to sort this out. A small chance, but a chance none the less.  
"I don't believe so," she stated carefully. "I'm still the same person I used to be. He's someone I would have gravitated towards even if we've met under other circumstances. We... kind of understand each other."  
"You and Loki?" Sif sounded sceptic.  
"You don't like him, do you?"  
"That is of little importance. My orders are simply to take you out of here and bring you back where you belong."  
"Like it was simple to leave Loki here and forget about him?"  
"He is well cared for," Sif said sternly, "and has all important needs met. If he's told you otherwise he is lying to you."  
"Except for company!" She couldn't stop herself. The coldness of the warrior next to her was infuriating. "You want to isolate him till he gives up and kills himself! What's wrong with you people? You're supposedly so highly advanced, but your humanity is stuck in the fucking middle ages!"  
Sif went stiff, her features closed.  
"It is not for a mortal to question the ways of Asgard."  
"Yes, haughty as hell you are too! I can see where Loki learned it from. Are you afraid he's going to end up being too much like a lowly 'mortal' if he hangs out with me? That's your real fear, isn't it? That's always the case with bigots."

Now she was just lashing out, speaking whatever came to her mind. The battle was lost, she could just as well get a punch in where she could.

Sif turned her around with a firm hand on her arm and started walking back the way they came.  
"Your perspective is limited; you lack knowledge and experience. I will not hold it against you."  
"Oh, go fuck yourself."  
Sif flinched at the insolence, but didn't respond. When they reached the spot where the pattern was burnt into the ground she finally let go and spoke:  
"I will give the Allfather your answer. He will decide what will be done." Sif glanced towards the house. "I bid you farewell for now."

The warrior stepped into the circle and a blinding light took her away.

Alone.

_I bought some time. I don't know how, but I bought us some time._

She started walking towards the house, presuming Loki was still inside. If not she could always go looking for him.

She was shaking. The whole situation was upsetting, for many reasons.

_I just insulted someone from Asgard. A messenger from the Allfather too. Oh crap!_

That's what happened when she let go of her self-control. Stupid, dangerous mistakes. This would not end well.

There were scattered and broken items on the floor, like they'd been swept off their shelf in a bout of fury. She found Loki in the inner room, sitting on his bed with his knees bent and a hand over his eyes.  
"Coming to collect your belongings?" he asked without looking up.

There wouldn't be much to collect, beyond her empty phone and some seashells.

_Didn't he think I would say goodbye?_

"No... I said I didn't want to go, so she went back to tell Odin."  
He was quiet for a moment. She went to stand in front of him, awaiting his reaction. For now he seemed calm enough.  
"You're telling me she left you here because you wished to remain?"  
"She said she was going to relay the message, and the Allfather will decide what to do."

Loki finally removed the hand from his eyes, but pinched the bridge of his nose first. Then he looked up at her, a smirk lingering at the corner of his mouth.  
"And why, pray tell, would you remain here when you do not have to?" 

That was not an easy question to answer. She knew why, had known it the moment she'd been told why Sif had come. Putting words on it was a whole different matter though.

"I don't want to leave you."  
Loki raised an eyebrow, then opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again. He rose to his feet and walked a few slow, deliberate steps before speaking.  
"So you're staying out of pity, then. How noble."  
"It's not pity."  
"Oh, is it not?" His tone was mocking as he kept walking, circling her slowly. "Perhaps it is my gratitude you're hoping for... but alas, in my current predicament I have nothing to offer you, as you must be well aware."  
"Loki..." She was about to turn, but he was already standing behind her and before she could react he had a hand around her throat. It wasn't squeezing, only holding, forcing her chin slightly upwards.  
"Then what would it be?" he asked with a silken voice. "What is it you so desire from me, that you're willing to stay despite being offered a way out? A way _home_?"

Home... Like there even was one to go back to. A home, a life...

"You're the closest to a friend I have," she said.  
He remained still, silent, before slowly releasing his grip, fingers sliding over her skin as he removed his hand. It was an oddly sensual feeling, not unlike that dream which still stood out in her memory.

"Foolish woman," he said, turned on his heel and walked out.


	10. One last time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Would you rather remember... or forget?

She waited a few minutes before following, giving Loki time to compose himself. She had a pretty good idea what was going on, but if she was wrong... Better not think about that.

He hadn't gone far. In fact he was standing just around the corner, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.  
"I'm not cleaning up the kitchen," she said as she saw him. "You made the mess; you fix it."  
He huffed out a quiet laugh, leaning his head back.  
"Perhaps I should make more use of you in such matters," he said, "since you are so intent on staying."  
"Perhaps you should not," she retorted, mimicking his way of speaking. "I was under the impression I was brought here for company, not for housekeeping."

Loki turned towards her, reaching out to take her chin between his fingers.  
"You are still a fool, however well-meaning your intentions." He ran his thumb over her lips, thoughtfully, like he wasn't fully aware what his hand was doing.  
"It probably won't make a difference anyway," she said, uncomfortably aware of the shiver the light touch incited. "I said some things... I shouldn't, so I probably just made them angry."  
"Now that I would have liked to hear." He suddenly frowned and let her go, like he'd realized what he was doing. "Indeed, this... refusal may not sit well with Odin. He does not take lightly to being opposed. Or disobeyed."

_Crap!_

"The Asgardians are a bit uptight, aren't they?"  
"I wouldn't exactly describe them as such...," Loki said, "and if you had seen how they amuse themselves, neither would you. The Allfather expects his words to be obeyed, however, and his retribution may be as swift as it is harsh."

_Crap again! I'm in such deep trouble now._

"We may not have much time," he said, "before they come for you."

Time enough to say goodbye, maybe. But how do you say goodbye to someone you'd never see again? Someone condemned to an eternity of isolation?

Her heart ached. She felt small and powerless, meddling with gods who'd been around long before she was even born, and would still be after she was gone. Not gods, she corrected herself: aliens. Not that it mattered. She had let herself get attached, which was rare enough, to the one friend she couldn't keep.

"I will miss you," she said.

_I will miss you so much!_

Before she could think of it she had embraced him.  
That was not in her nature at all. She didn't hug people, least of all spontaneously. Least of all someone who had literally tried to invade her planet.

Loki seemed to hesitate, then very lightly put his arms around her. Something told her he wasn't the hugging type either. Or he just wasn't used to it, being alone for so long.

They stood like that for a while, till she awkwardly backed off. Just at the moment she decided to let go she thought she felt his grip tighten, but that was probably just imagination.

"So... what do we do now?"  
Loki sighed.  
"I suppose tidying up inside is a priority. We could also continue our lessons, unless you no longer find them of use."  
"I don't care if they're useful," she said as they turned the corner. "I enjoy them, so I'm willing if you are."

_"I'm willing if you are."_

Couldn't she have put it better? It sounded like... No, she was oversensitive, that's all. Everything seemed to have a double meaning these days.

She made tea while Loki cleaned up, something that went quickly with a bit of magic added to the mix. Now, she wished he could teach her _that_!

They sat by the table while studying, sipping their tea with it's particular, subtle scent filling the room. Another thing she had gotten used to and would never experience again.  
"What do you think went wrong?" she asked. "How did they find out?"  
"I was careless," he admitted, "letting the cloaking falter."

Cloaking. That's what he called the magic he had used to conceal her.

"I just wish I could come back to visit," she said. "Even if I'm not allowed to stay, that I could..." Her voice trailed off. They both knew it was impossible. She had hoped the language lesson would help distract her, but instead she found it hard to focus, her mind circling back to the inevitable over and over.

_Why is it that when I for once find someone I really get along with I have to loose them?_

He hadn't always been easy to deal with, and she had those incidents in fresh memory, but when things were good... they were really good. There was like a silent understanding between them that she almost never felt with other people. 

"Be careful with drinking too much," Loki cautioned her. "It will keep you awake."  
"I'm not sure I want to sleep." She glanced at the window, where dusk was already settling.  
"It would be better for you to do so."  
"Says the one who's up walking every night," she mumbled.  
"I do not walk every night," he frowned. "Only when I cannot sleep. And I require considerably less rest than you do."  
"That's not what I see," she persisted, but in a gentle tone, not wanting to cause an argument. "Some mornings you look like something the cat dragged in."  
He made a face.  
"I am quite sure I look nothing of the sort."  
She almost snorted the tea out of her nose.  
"It's an expression, silly. It means... I think you know what it means."

He passed her a piece of paper and ordered her to write down the words and phrases he told her. She did her best and gave it back for him to look over.  
"How did I do?" she asked when he remained silent.  
"Not worse than last time."  
She rolled her eyes.  
"Is that the best compliment you can give? ' Not worse than last time.'"  
He smirked at her, then did a hand movement to erase the writing and leave the paper blank for another use.  
"What sort of compliment would you prefer? Should I praise your efforts to the skies, perhaps say that no mortal has ever made such progress in such a short time before?"  
"Only if it's true. You don't need to exaggerate."  
"Mmm... To be honest I have little to compare with, but you are making progress."

He got up to wash his teacup.

"How come you speak our language so well?" she wondered. "Do you study Midgardian languages in Asgard?"  
Loki smiled a little.  
"We don't. We use something called the 'all-tongue'. It's a manner of communicating that conveys the meaning of one's words into the words of the listener. In fact I have been speaking my own language the entire time."  
"You have... what?"  
His smile got broader, mischief glinting in his eyes.  
"It is most useful when you visit other realms."  
"Oo-kay..." she drawled, not even trying to wrap her head around this new revelation.

He came back to the table.  
"It is not something I can teach you, I'm afraid. It's an ability among the more evolved races in Yggdrasil; humans have simply not developed it."  
"Of course not," she sighed sarcastically. "Just like with magic, right?"  
"All-tongue has it's foundation in magic, so yes."

He took her cup away before she could refill it.  
"I believe you've had enough. Let's move to the other room."  
She was going to protest, saying she wasn't a child; she could drink as much as she wanted, but decided against it. She knew he didn't want tea spilled in his bed, and the thought of moving there was a pleasant one. She could do with being more comfortable.

Sitting on Loki's bed was no longer an awkward experience; she had become used to it over time, and it was always immaculately made, so it was not as if she was in direct contact with the sheets he'd slept in or anything.

There was still an intimate feel to it, but a nice one that she associated with their moments together.  
Those she would miss most of all.

Once they'd settled in with their backs against the wall he brought out a book and began to read. She listened to his voice while relaxing, letting the well-being infuse her as time passed. This place was lonely, but it was also quiet, peaceful, even serene in it's simplicity. If she'd had a say she would come back here often, recharging whenever the real world became hard to bear.

It would be her greatest regret that it couldn't work that way.

"I will miss you," she said. "I mean it."  
"I'm sure you do," he said, carefully straightening out a fold in the book page. "However, as time passes your memory will falter; it will be harder to recall the details of your stay, and eventually you will come to doubt that it ever happened. You will think it was only a dream."  
"Never!" she protested. "How can you say that?"  
Loki smiled slightly.  
"It is quite an unlikely story, is it not? Being abducted by a god, kept like a pet in a magically forged realm beside your own. How many would believe, were you to tell them, that it all wasn't a figment of your imagination?" His voice had a teasing tone to it, but there was a barely detectable note of sadness beneath.

_He thinks I will forget him._

_Like everyone else is trying to do._

"I don't have to tell anyone."  
"Which will only serve to make the memory fade faster."

He put the book aside and stretched his legs before standing up from the bed.  
"I believe it is time for some rest," he said, "if we manage to catch it. We will see what unfolds in the morning."

She reluctantly went to her own bed, realizing it was useless to argue. She hadn't begun to undress, however, before she realized she needed to take a trip outside.

_Damn tea!_

When she came back Loki was still half dressed, his bare upper body attracting her attention like a magnet. For once he seemed unbothered by being seen in such a way. He was bent over the bed, rearranging the sheets.  
"Loki..."  
"Hmm?"  
"How did you get those scars? The others?"  
He stilled. She couldn't see his face, but the sudden stop of movement, followed by him very slowly straightening up, made her wonder if she had gone too far. If he would explode in rage, or at least insults, because she had had the audacity to ask something so personal.

"Why do you wish to know?" he asked instead. His eyes were carefully averted from hers.  
"I... I'm sorry, I've just been wondering. They look... different." She wanted to stay "strange", but changed her mind in the last minute.  
He moistened his lips, looking pensive.  
"I understand you're aware of my attempt at conquering your realm," he said.  
"Yes. There was a lot of talk about it when it happened."

"I was somewhere else at first," he said. "On the world where my... allies come from. They have ways to... persuade you to do their bidding." His jaw tensed briefly. "As it was, they wanted me to retrieve something for them.  
"Like what?"  
"It doesn't matter," he said curtly. "What matters is that I had little incentive in doing what they asked at first. So they... convinced me."


	11. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the night falls and memories are forced to the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T.W. Mention of torture.

"On the Chitauri world," Loki said, "there is a kind of beast. It is no larger in size than you can hold on to it with both hands. You need to be utterly careful, however, because it's claws are venomous and very sharp. They are bent in a round shape, almost circular, and when they tear into your skin... they act like hooks, ripping pieces of flesh with them."   
His mouth twitched. "The venom fester in the wounds for days after, delaying the healing and causing searing agony. You cannot sleep, you cannot think, you can only exist, waiting for the pain to fade. Lesser beings have gone mad from it, or so they told me."

He spoke monotonously, like reciting a factual text rather than a lived experience. She looked at the small, uneven scars, distributed in clusters of three, on his skin. Most were on his back, but a few on his chest as well, one on his abdomen, partly visible over the edge of his pants.

"They did this to you on purpose? Held it over you and..."   
He didn't answer, but kept talking like he hadn't heard her words:  
"They strive to weaken you, so you won't resist when he bends you to his will. They feed you just enough to sustain you, but not satisfy you; they let you sleep just enough to function, but no more, and they wait, simply wait, till you begin to falter."  
"And then...?" She wasn't so sure she wanted to hear more, but for some reason she needed to. She needed to know.  
"Then The Other comes, attaches himself as a leach to your exhausted mind and searches for your weaknesses, your flaws, anything and everything that can be used to break your spirit. And what he find, they use."  
"How?"  
Loki swallowed.  
"They... reduce you, everything you are, to something useless and loathsome, something with no value or purpose. Then he gives you a purpose, as a tool..." His voice faltered for a moment. "... as a tool to serve him."  
"The Other?"  
"Thanos. The Other is merely his servant."

Loki had not looked at her the entire time he spoke. Just like his voice, his eyes were distant, devoid of all emotion, like he could only reveal the horrors by shutting down any and all feeling related to them. The names didn't tell her anything. The Other. Thanos. Yet the way he spoke of them filled her with dread.

"That's what they did to you? Made you a tool?"  
Loki's face hardened. She wondered if he felt he had revealed too much.  
"For a time. I saw a chance to turn it to my advantage and I took it." He looked down on his hands. "I had little to loose."  
"I'm sorry," she said, feeling painfully inadequate in expressing her sympathy. She had learned that Loki was both stronger and more resilient than a regular human being. Anything to leave lasting marks on him, physically or mentally, would have to be extremely powerful.  
"I have no need for pity," he said, but there was barely any aggression to detect in his voice; merely flat, matter-of-factly resignation. Turning to his bed he let the light fade and settled in under the covers, leaving her in silence.

* * *

She woke up too soon, having to go out again. Cursing quietly she got out of bed and put her clothes on. Loki had warned about overindulging with the tea, but entirely for the wrong reasons.

His bed was empty, she noticed in passing, but that wasn't terribly unusual. 

After her errand she returned to the house, but stopped before reaching the door.  
Loki was nowhere to be seen. She slowly wandered towards the rough wooden bench where she used to find him when he couldn't sleep. After the first time she had seen his scars, and later found him out here playing with his dagger, she had been hypervigilant for some time. Every night she'd heard him get up and not come back she had gone out just to check where he was. Eventually she had calmed down and stopped worrying.

Now, for some reason, the unease was back. The fact that she couldn't find him was disconcerting.

_Where are you?_

She sat on the bench, listening for any sound of footsteps, movement. It did little good, of course; Loki moved like a cat. She looked in all directions, trying to detect a shadow, a silhouette, anything that was out of place. 

She leaned forward, elbows resting on her thighs. The conversation earlier had left a deep impact in her mind. She could scarcely imagine what he had endured; words didn't make the horrors justice, she suspected. Now she wondered what dragging it up might have done to his psyche, to that delicate balance his mind seemed to be in at all times, so easily tipped over.

And tomorrow she would be forced to leave...

There were dark stains on the ground beneath the bench. She couldn't see their color.

_"...If it would work to cut deep enough to bleed, before going into the water. If it would truly weaken me enough."_

"Loki?"   
She stood up to call him again, as a mounting anxiety built in her chest. She looked out to the dark waters, waves slowly rolling in, reflecting the moonlight.  
There was no answer.  
"Loki!"

Two hands came down on her arms from behind and she squeeked.  
"I am here. Calm yourself!"

She turned around and basically bumped into him.  
"Oh! I thought..." She couldn't make herself explain what she had thought. "I... where were you?"  
"Further down the beach," he said, tilting his head in that direction. He had reflexively caught her arms again when she spun around to face him. "I have something to show you."

They walked through the dark, following the waterline, till they reached the very place he had watched her swim some time ago. After climbing onto the cliff he went down on one knee close to the edge. She followed and peeked down. There was a luminous, colorful mass floating in the water.  
"I believe you refer to them as 'plankton', yes?"  
"We do, but I didn't know they came so close to the shore."

She couldn't take her eyes of the glowing scenario below. It was as hypnotic as it was magical. Like a slowly swirling galaxy in a space of deepest darkness. The miniscule organisms were unable to move of their own volition; they could only go where the current took them. 

Much like her, she thought with some bitterness. She had had no say in entering this world, neither when it came to leaving it. She could only flow with the current.

They watched for a long time, barely speaking a word. When her knees got tired she shifted to lie on her stomach and elbows. Loki remained seated beside her and once she caught him looking at her rather than at the creatures below. His face was thoughtful in the moonlight and he slowly turned away when their eyes met.

The night melted into morning before she felt the first tug of sleepiness.  
"I don't want to leave," she said softly. The stone was cold and she felt stiff when changing position. Shivering she wrapped her arms around herself.   
"You need to return to your life," Loki said, watching his hands.  
"It isn't much to return to," she pulled up her knees against her chest, arms around them. The sun wasn't yet visible; you could only tell from the slow fading of darkness that it was about to rise.  
"You may well feel different once back."

"Do you miss Asgard?" she asked. "I mean, not just as a way to get out of here; do you miss it as such?"  
He delayed a moment before answering, then:  
"I do, yes."  
"Why do they hate you so much?" she said, putting words on what had been on her mind ever since Sif left. She wasn't really expecting an answer; it was more about airing her thoughts, her frustration and sadness.

He studied her, then got to his feet and reached for her hand.  
"I believe we should go back and catch what little sleep we can before you must leave." He pulled her to her feet and went to the other end of the cliff. Jumping down with ease he held out his arms and waited. She let herself slide off the rock and be caught, for a brief moment held against his chest before he put her down on her feet.

They began to walk.  
"Their hatred stems from events before I arrived in Midgard," he said. "In their eyes I cannot be trusted."  
"That's the impression I got," she said, once more remembering Sif's words.

_"He is lying to you."_

"My brother was set to be king, but his coronation was interrupted. There were enemies breeching the palace, a small group of frost giants attempting to steal an item from the weapon's vault."  
"So what happened?"  
"He decided to venture to Jotunheim against the express will of the Allfather, and talked his friends into following him. The fool almost got us all killed."   
"So you were there too?"  
"I was. I sent a guard to warn the Allfather before we left, but he took too long. Thor ended up breaking a truce that had lasted for a thousand years, and Odin banished him as punishment."  
"Banished?"  
"To Midgard, to live as a mortal till he learned his lesson."

This was quite a revelation. She had heard about Thor, of course, and knew he worked with the Avengers, but this was a side of him she'd never heard about. Another perspective.

Loki continued:  
"The Allfather fell into... a regenerative sleep, and being next in succession I was appointed king for the time being."

Hearing him talk like this it really hit her: Loki was royalty! Of another world, but still. It was quite a thing to wrap her head around.

"And what happened?" she asked, sensing there was more to come. He hadn't mentioned much that could be seen as untrustworthy yet. Telling the guard was hardly a bad thing, if they had been off risking their lives.  
"I... saw an opportunity," Loki said, becoming more hesitant. "Thor had always been favored, and I believed, erroneously as it turned out, that I could prove myself equally worthy."  
"It didn't work?"  
Loki moistened his lips.  
"I needed to keep Thor from returning while I set certain... events in motion. I won't bother you with the details; it's enough to say that I was defied and betrayed by Thor's friends as well as the gatekeeper, who had decided that I was not to be trusted." He took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders which had gone stiff during talking. Revisiting those memories didn't leave him unaffected, that was obvious. "Thor had found out about my attempt at delaying his return, and came back early. We fought." He went silent for a while as they walked.

"So you didn't get a chance to prove yourself?" she asked carefully, trying to judge from his facial expression if he was to become volatile.  
"What I attempted failed due to Thor's return. Well, part of it. And what I did wasn't enough, Odin made that quite clear." He was now tensing up again, jaw tightening. "Instead of proving myself worthy, they all saw me as a monster who couldn't be trusted."  
"I'm sorry."

He turned around abruptly.  
"Why? Perhaps it was justified? Perhaps I deserved to be betrayed, denied, thrown into an abyss and subjected to horrors that nightmares are made off? There is no way for you to know, is there?"  
She flinched.  
"I don't know! I just go by what you tell me. If that's what happened... What do you mean thrown into an abyss?"  
Loki closed his eyes for a moment, as if collecting himself.  
"As I was fighting Thor I fell; I was thrown out." He started walking again, and she hurried to keep up. "The bifrost bridge leads to the observatory we use for travelling to other realms. It broke during our battle and I fell into the void. I intended to perish; there was nothing left to go back to. Instead I was caught by a stray current from the failing observatory and thrown across the universe, which is how I found myself on the Chitauri world."

They were almost at the house now, passing by the place where the pattern of the Bifrost was still burnt into the ground, only partly erased by the shifting sand.

_"He is lying to you."_

Maybe he was, but she had nothing but his words to go on, and she didn't doubt people without a good reason. 

_"I intended to perish."_

That she believed without hesitation. All the emotion that had welled up while he was talking told her that part was true.

She decided to believe him until anything turned up telling her otherwise. It didn't make a difference to her existence here, after all, and trusting him made their interaction easier.

They reached the house as the sun became visible over the horizon.  
"Do you wish to eat anything first?" he asked as they entered.  
She shook her head.  
"I'm not hungry, just want to sleep."

_And think._

She curled up in her bed, wrapping the covers tightly around herself in an attempt to get warm. It didn't take long to doze off.


	12. Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When it feels right to stay close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly shorter chapter, because I needed a proper cut-off point.

They slept into the afternoon, or at least she did. A hand touched her shoulder and still half asleep she leaned into it. It was nice and cool; she smiled, then opened her eyes.  
Loki was looking down at her, an eyebrow raised. It took a moment of confusion before she realized what she was doing and flicked her cheek away from his hand. He withdrew it, but not very quickly.  
"Unless you wish to sleep into the evening, I would prefer your company for a while," he said, leaving so she could dress.

"They aren't here yet, are they?" She hurried to get ready.  
"They are not," came his answer from the kitchen.

Good, that gave them a little more time.

She hopped into the kitchen on one leg, trying the untangle her toes from the legging where they were stuck.  
"You can take your time to get dressed properly," Loki rolled his eyes at her.  
"The stitches came loose; they're too long again." She managed to get her foot through and pulled up the fabric. It was decidedly unsophisticated, but she had more important things on her mind than dignity right now.  
"Well, that hardly matters any more," Loki concluded and waited for her to sit. Their breakfast was already on the table, if you could call it that when the first meal of the day was well after lunchtime.

This wasn't earth, she reminded herself, there was noone to disapprove if they made their own rules. Except for the Allfather, perhaps, but she doubted that their sleeping and meal hours were what he concerned himself with.

They ate while quietly talking. There wasn't much to say, and it felt like every subject eventually led back to the fact that she would have to leave.

She began to wonder what took them so long. It was already a full day since Sif's visit, she would have expected a reaction by now. Maybe Odin was busy with other things.

Loki needed to mend the fishnet again, and repair one of the traps. She sat next to him watching in order to learn something, but it was really about staying close during what little time they had left.

"Our supplies are running low," he said. "If they aren't replenished soon I will have to live on a meager fare indeed."  
"It's my fault, isn't it? If you'd been alone they would have lasted longer."  
"I suppose I brought it on myself," he said, "wanting company much like a needy child."  
She huffed out a laugh.  
"I can not imagine you as a child."  
Loki smiled, biting his lip.  
"Believe it or not, I used to be one." He had her hold part of the net so he could work on it. "Of course, one has to grow up eventually."  
"Yes, I think I was happiest when I was really small," she recalled. "Before I was told about everything that was wrong with me."  
He gave her a look.  
"And was there?"  
"Well... depends on how you see it. In my world you're wrong if you don't fit in. If you're different somehow."  
"Mmm... That is often the case, indeed." His fingers worked skillfully and fast, and he soon turned to another part of the net that needed attention.

"Were you ever told you were wrong?" She had to ask, based on what he'd told her about other people's view of him.  
"Not in so many words," he said softly, focusing on the work. "I was the subject of quite a few jests though. My interests went in a different direction than most."  
"Yeah, that would do it."

* * *

They spent most of the remaining day doing practical things. It helped keeping their minds occupied and gave them reason to stay together. Her thoughts often returned to the previous night and the time they'd spent watching the plankton. If she'd forget much else, as Loki claimed would happen, she was quite sure she would keep that particular memory.

It felt strange to imagine a normal life after this. She would never again be able to visit the beach without wondering if Loki was watching her through the thinning "walls", or even if he still was there, on the other side. Would he ever find a way out, or would he have to succumb to his fate, slowly going mad from unwanted solitude and powerlessness, intrusive memories eating away at his soul?

She didn't want to think about it, but it was a concern hard to ignore.

Pity might well play a part, as Loki had insisted, but it was far from the whole truth. She wanted to stay because she appreciated being around him, because she loved listening to his voice when he read or told her stories, because she enjoyed their walks. She'd come to appreciate his playful side, even when if came out as teasing; she often gave as good as she got in the end. They had grown closer from spending so much time together, and there were few people she could say that about.

At some point she even imagined Loki following her to her world, lingering on the couch in front of the TV, commenting on Midgardian food choices in her kitchen (or criticizing, most likely) and having her show him _her_ world.  
It was pure fantasy, of course; it could never be real.

The reality was that she would miss him immensely.

* * *

Loki was moaning in his sleep and he was loud enough to wake her up. First she wasn't sure what it was she was hearing; was there an animal nearby? Then she realized it came from within the room. She listened for a while, unsure of what to do. The sound bothered her; made her want to do something, but she wasn't sure it was her place to intrude. 

Finally she got up and put her tunic on before cautiously approaching his bed.

He was lying on his side, facing the room, eyelids flickering. Whatever he was dreaming it was stressful, she could tell. She hesitated touching him, wondering if he might startle and lash out. Slowly she reached out, prepared to withdraw her hand quickly if something went wrong. Loki was dangerously strong, and his reflexes way faster than a human's. She could end up with a broken jaw or worse.

His breathing was shallow and fast when she touched his face, resting her hand lightly on his cheek. He flinched at the contact, but it took another few seconds before he opened his eyes.  
"What are you doing?" His voice was muffled from sleep.  
"You had a nightmare," she said, starting to withdraw her hand. He caught her wrist before she was done.  
"And what concern is that of yours?"

There it was again. Clearly weakness and vulnerability were Loki's greatest enemies.

"Never mind," she said, making a move to get up from her kneeling position on the floor. He didn't let go.  
With a soft groan he moved back towards the wall and pulled at her arm till she had to sit next to him on the bed. His eyes were closed again. She waited for him to say something or loosen his grip, but neither happened, and she almost thought he had fallen back asleep.  
"Loki..."  
"Mm-hm."  
"What do you want?"  
"Since you're so willing to chase off my nightmares, perhaps you should keep guard to keep them from returning."  
"And what am I supposed to do? Just sit here the rest of the night?"  
"You could lie down." 

That... was oddly titillating. She actually wouldn't mind. And to be perfectly honest, she had slept next to him once before without him taking advantage of the situation. If it was all about company and keeping his nightmares at bay... it couldn't do any harm, could it?

She hesitantly lay down, as well as she could while he still was holding on to her wrist. Once she was in place, however, he let go and she could get more comfortable. He pulled part of the cover over her so they were both underneath it.  
"You will get cold without," he murmured. 

She couldn't argue with that.

The bed was large enough for two, but didn't leave much space between them. To be most comfortable she actually had to lie with her back against his chest and feel his knees behind hers. Luckily he was wearing underwear, if nothing else.

She was lying there, feeling his breath against her neck and the smooth sensation of skin contact against her legs. It should have felt weird, but for some reason it didn't. It actually felt right.  
"We should have done this earlier," she thought aloud.  
"Indeed."

She soon fell asleep, blissfully unaware of the golden eyes watching them from afar.


	13. Agreement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit that determines everything.

Waking up was pleasant, once again that feeling of things being _right_. Loki's arm had slipped around her during the night and now rested over her waist. Light from the windows in the outer room was seeping in and slowly diluting the darkness around them. She could feel Loki's chest steadily rising and falling against her back. Maybe he was still asleep; maybe he was just remaining still and enjoying the closeness like she was. She couldn't remember ever being able to lie like this, with someone else's body wrapped around her without hurry to move on, or expectations of anything else.

She placed her arm over his, her hand resting on his while feeling his hard knuckles under the soft pads of her fingers. She wondered what it would feel like to trace his scars. He was so self-conscious, would he even allow it? There was only the thin fabric of her tunic separating them; she could turn around and...

There was a sound outside, way too loud to ignore, and way too familiar. She tensed, stiffened, shrank back against Loki's embrace like it was a safe space to hide. His grip around her tightened. It was time.

She changed into her own clothes with shaky hands. Loki got dressed with a flick of his fingers (magic, she supposed) but waited for her to get ready. She reached for his hand when they walked out the door and he took it, soothingly rubbing it with his thumb.

It wasn't Sif waiting for them. It was Thor.

She had only ever seen him on pictures, and he was considerably more imposing in real life. Tall, like Loki, but broader in build. She felt small next to the two of them.  
Loki smirked, his tone sharp and stabbing like one of his blades.  
"Really, brother? You wanted to do the honor yourself?"  
"I'm not here to fight," Thor said.  
"Of course not. You're here to gloat while taking away what I've come to value the most in my exile."

_"...what I've come to value the most..."_

Any other time that would have made her warm and fuzzy inside; now it was painful more than anything.

"I am here to speak with you both," Thor said. "Father has assigned the matter of your banishment to me, to deal with as I see fit."  
"Really," Loki said, still holding her hand in his. "Are you going to make him _proud_?"  
"If you would cease your scorn long enough, Loki, perhaps we could go inside and discuss this matter properly?"  
"What is there to discuss?" Loki retorted. "You are here to take her away, are you not?" His grip was tightening to the point of being painful. She winced but didn't say anything.  
"Not necessarily," Thor said. "Certain things have come to my knowledge that need to be adressed before any such action is taken."

She didn't know what to make of this, but if there was the slightest chance...  
"Come inside then!" she spoke up, moving closer to Loki so their arms brushed against each other, hoping he would take the hint. He gave her a sideway glance, tensed his jaw, but didn't argue. His grip on her hand loosened.  
"Very well," he said, turning around. Placing a hand on her lower back he urged her along and they entered the house with Thor in tow. The hand on her back felt almost possessive, but she figured it was just a way of maintaining the contact. They settled by the table which had only two chairs, but to her surprise Loki solved it by simply pulling her sideways into his lap, securing her with an arm around her waist. It wasn't unpleasant; in fact it was a little bit enticing, but it also felt strangely demonstrative.

Thor watched them measuringly before beginning to speak.  
"When Sif returned with your answer I asked father to leave the matter to me, and he agreed," he begun.  
"I can imagine he was relieved to place the burden of my fate on someone else," Loki said. "All the easier to forget the shame of my pitiful existence."  
Thor looked like he was about to argue, but managed to control himself. Being so close to Loki she could feel his tension, the rigidity of his muscles, the fidgeting of his hand with her clothing. All surefire signs that he was worked up and ready to lash out if provoked enough.  
"I asked it of him because I wished to learn what had brought on such a response," Thor continued, now looking at her. "Sif told us you went as far as insulting her and accusing Asgard of bigotry against mortals, as well as of mistreating Loki."

She more felt than heard Loki's chuckle.  
"I did," she admitted, remembering her rant with some embarrassment, "and I stand for it. Do you want me to apologize or something?"  
"It is not necessary," Thor said, making an evasive hand movement. "It awoke my interest, that is all. I asked Heimdall to keep an eye on you both so I could form an opinion on the matter myself."  
"How clever of you, brother," Loki quipped, "to gather information before rushing off into mindless action. How you must have changed in my absence; I barely recognize you."  
"Enough, Loki! There is no need for this."  
She felt Loki tense again, body language contradicting the derisive smirk on his face. She put her hand over his and squeezed, hoping he would control himself. She couldn't blame him for being angry, but there was a chance, a tiny possibility, of things turning out better for them than expected, and she didn't want to miss it.  
"Heimdall told me something most disturbing," Thor said, "about your time with the Chitauri."

It was like a jolt went through Loki's body. She prepared herself for being thrown off if he was about to rise suddenly, but he only tightened his grip on her.  
"And what of it?" he hissed warningly.  
"You never told us what horrors had befallen you before turning up on Midgard."  
"And I cannot recall you ever asking," Loki said harshly. "Does it delight you to think of me in agony, powerless, begging for mercy? Do you wish for me to provide details of my misery?"  
"Of course not!" Thor frowned, rasing his voice. "How can you believe me to delight in such a thing?"

Loki closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself.  
"What is it that you want, Thor?"  
Thor sighed.  
"Heimdall also told me you two appear to be growing close, even sharing a bed."

Yep, there it was, what she'd been wondering since the first mention of the gatekeeper watching them. It made her feel a bit violated, being spied on in such an intimate situation.  
"What about it?" she asked, trying not to sound defensive.

She knew nothing about Thor, but he represented Asgard, and if Loki's apprehensive state around him was indicative enough they were not on friendly terms.

"Perhaps separating you isn't called for," Thor said. "If you truly wish to stay, and are not coerced in any way when stating so, I consider allowing it for the time being."  
"Oh, you consider allowing it," Loki said. "How generous of you."  
"Loki..."  
"How do I prove I'm not coerced?" she jumped in.  
Thor looked at her again, face serious.  
"I wish to hear how you came to be here, for a start. And what occured when you first arrived in this... created realm."

So she told him. Loki added bits here and there, but mostly allowed her to do the talking. He was in no way relaxing, but seemed less inclined to lashing out as the conversation went on. She skimmed over the parts where he'd threatened her, naturally, and focused mostly on the positive. 

Thor listened without interrupting. He was also observing them closely, like he had since the beginning. Loki was still holding her firmly in place against him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

She was ridiculousy comfortable like this. As serious as the subject matter was, she couldn't fully distract herself from the fact that she was sitting on his lap. If she had thought being on his bed was intimate in the beginning, this was even more so. What had Loki been thinking, placing her against him like this? And in front of his brother too. God only knew what Thor was thinking about their relationship.

And wasn't it funny how she found that thought just a little bit exciting?

"I was not aware you could sense the mortals, brother," Thor said, "or use your magic in such a way as to draw them here."  
"Neither did I at first." Loki was absently rubbing his hand against her back. "And I didn't sense them all equally; it was mostly one of them that... stood out to me, so to speak."  
"And you brought her here, with little regard for her wishes."  
"It was not as if I could ask," Loki said sarcastically. 

Thor looked less than pleased with that answer, and she quickly suggested having something to drink if they were going to keep talking for much longer. Thor accepted and Loki let her go, though he was remarkably slow in withdrawing his arm so she could get up. Once the tea was on the table she slipped back onto his lap again.  
"Mother's tea," Thor observed from the scented steam rising from the cups. "You are still drinking it?"  
"Why not?" Loki said. "Did you think I would abandon all civilized habits when being forced into such primitive conditions as these?"  
"No," Thor admitted. "That I would not."

She took the liberty of leaning against Loki's chest while watching them interact. It was just a small movement, and she didn't think he'd notice, but it felt so nice. She found herself wanting to close her eyes and snuggle against his neck. Too bad it didn't feel appropriate under the circumstances.

_What is happening to me? I didn't mean to grow_ this _close to him_.

"Why did you do it, Loki?" Thor asked after a long pause. Loki seemed to understand what he was referring to without asking.  
"Asgard needed a king," he said simply.  
"And that would be you?"  
"As I recall you had little interest in the throne, rather playing hero on Midgard than ruling the nine realms. How did you put it again? Yes, 'I'd rather be a good man than a great king' was it not? So honorable, brother." Loki smirked, his tone mocking.  
"You would have given it up had I wanted it?" Thor looked sceptic.  
"Quite possibly," Loki said. "Not that it matters now." His face hardened. "I worked relentlessly to strengthen our defences and prepare the nine realms for the threat that will inevitably come, and what did I receive in return? A banishment to a side-realm where I barely have enough to sustain myself, let alone make a difference!"  
"I'm not denying that you did well," Thor said, "only your methods of achieving it. I'm fairly certain father would say the same, would he choose to speak of the matter."  
Loki twisted his mouth into a sneer.  
"Which is why he does not. Any recognition that I did well during my time on the throne would require him acknowledging I was more than a mistake who should have been left to perish in a Jotun temple."  
"I do not share that sentiment, brother." Thor's voice was serious.  
"How gracious of you. It is however... How do your precious mortals put it? 'Too little, too late.'"  
"I will not believe it is too late," Thor said gravely. "Much have changed; we are no longer who we were, neither of us, yet... I do wish there was a way to mend what's been broken. I don't wish for us to end like this."  
"It is not just for us to decide, is it?" Loki said pointedly.

Thor set his cup aside and rose from the table.  
"I don't wish for you to suffer, brother, whether you believe it or not. I will allow your mortal friend to remain, as she so clearly desires, for one Midgardian year. After that we can revisit the arrangement and make accomodations if needed. I will also see to that you have enough supplies and whatever else you require to make your stay bearable. I only request one condition."

_Here it comes._

She inadvertantly held on to Loki's hand, fearing the worst.  
"Which would be?" Loki's tone was as apprehensive as how she felt inside.  
"That I will be allowed to visit from time to time," Thor said plainly.  
"Why?"  
"To talk, to see how you're faring. To try to understand and, perhaps, mend some of the rift between us over time. That is all I ask, nothing else."  
"Very well." Loki nodded curtly, then stood up himself, letting her down to stand on her own feet while still holding her against him. "If the price is to suffer your presence a few hours now and then I am willing to pay it. Just don't make it too often."  
Thor smiled slightly.  
"Have no worry, brother. I will leave you time enough to yourselves."

They followed him out and saw him off, the renewed pattern on the ground the only trace of a visit that changed everything.

One year...

_We will have a whole year._


	14. A place to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between distance and closeness.

Loki seemed thoughtful, but she couldn't begin to guess what was going through his mind. 

She suggested a walk along the beach and he agreed.  
"I need to process this," she said when they'd been wandering for a bit. "It's not what I expected."  
"Regrets already?" Loki said.  
"No! Why do you think that?"  
He shrugged.  
"Oh, no reason. Sometimes doubts will come once you have what you thought you coveted."  
"Yes..." She knew what he meant. "Doubts and regrets are not the same thing though."

He wasn't touching her anymore, and she wondered if he was speaking about himself, rather than about her.  
"Not necessarily," he agreed. "They may well coincide, of course."

She moved closer to the waterline and stripped off her shoes, craving the sensory sensation of seawater and sand around her feet. Loki watched without commenting. He seemed more distant now compared to the last days, and the contrast made her uneasy.  
"You don't know what you might have brought on yourself," he said as they continued walking, her in the shallow water, him on land.  
"I'm sure I'll find out."

She wished she knew what he was thinking, but couldn't figure out how to ask to be sure of an honest answer. Loki had that expression he got when not wanting to give anything away, and pushing wouldn't work; she knew that from experience.

It struck her that she had become bolder over time when interacting with Loki. She was less nervous around him nowadays, less concerned about envoking an outburst for saying or doing the wrong thing. He was still unpredictible, but there was so much more to him now than the volatile side, so it had become less important.

Maybe that's why she hadn't hesitated more when it came to sharing his bed. Somewhere along the line she had started to trust him.  
"You may think that you know me," he said, "but you do not. You may well end up cursing your choice in a few months time."

She tried to catch his eye, but he kept looking ahead of himself.  
"Why do you say that? You wanted me to stay, didn't you?"  
"Perhaps I was selfish," he said. "It is true I didn't care about your wishes when I brought you here; I merely wanted _something_ to ease my predicament. I didn't expect to..."

He didn't finish the sentence and she couldn't begin to guess what he had wanted to say before he continued about something else:  
"You may know what I am, but you are not aware of what it means."  
"Does it have to mean anything?" she wondered. "Can't you just be you?"  
He turned towards her with a haughty expression.  
"If you _are_ a monster you can only ever pretend to be something else, can you not? You cannot change what you were born to become." His voice was hardening, challenging her.  
"So you just live up to it? Is that why you tried to conquer Earth? I know it wasn't all your choice, but..."  
"There were multiple reasons," he interrupted, "but that's not what I'm talking about. What if you're hoping to see something in me that simply isn't there? Something I cannot give you?"  
"I don't know what that would be," she said honestly. "I only go by what I _have_ seen."

A sudden wind blew a lock of hair over his face and he tucked it back behind his ear.  
"And what is it you have seen so far? Me threatening you? Abducting you to use you as a pet?"  
"But you also did a lot to make me comfortable," she reminded him. "Things you didn't have to do." She thought about the curtain by her bed, his concern that she would be cold. Sure, those were things one could do for a "pet" but...  
"What if it's all a way to trick you," he persisted, "to lure you in and make you think you're safe?"  
"Loki..."   
"When the weather gets colder I will show you my true form. We will see how strong your resolve is by then."

There was a faint, undefined ache in her chest when he went cold and withdrawn towards her like this, especially after the intimacy they'd shared earlier. His aggression was easier to handle, if not by much.  
"Why don't you show me now?"  
He stopped abruptly.  
"You think this is a game? That I would show you just to sate a whim of curiousity? You don't know what you're asking." He all but hissed out the words. She had to fight the impulse of taking a step back out of pure instinct.  
"Why wait, if you're going to show me anyway?" she persisted, keeping her tone calm.  
He closed his eyes for a moment before speaking.  
"If you have to know, it takes considerable effort to change my form at will under these circumstances. Cold makes it somewhat easier."

Well, that made sense, she supposed.

"But you can do it at will? It's just difficult?"  
"As I just stated, it takes effort. It is hardly a skill I've had reason to practice on a daily basis."

But he had practiced it enough to learn, she thought. They had talked very little about his real form, or his people, but she had the clear impression that he wasn't comfortable with either. On the other hand he seemed to be someone who cared about knowledge, and it would have been unlikely that he hadn't at least considered experimenting with changing forms. Especially when all alone and with little to do beyond reading and surviving.

They reached her old spot by the end of the beach and spent some time there, Loki standing by a tree and looking out towards the sea without saying much of anything.

She fiddled with a sea shell she'd found on the way. It was unusually smooth, like it's been under water much longer than the ones she usually found around the beach. It also had a slight discoloration that made it all the more fascinating to her senses. She liked unique things, objects with marks indicating a history, items other people would consider flawed...

Her eyes went to Loki where he stood, raven black hair and sharp profile, haunted and beautiful like a fallen angel.

_Is that why I'm so drawn to you? Because you are like one of those things?_

"I _do_ want to stay," she said, "and if you didn't want me here you could have said so."  
"I could," he admitted.  
She walked up to stand next to him.  
"So why didn't you?"  
He closed his eyes for a moment, tensing his shoulders.  
"It is not whether I want you here that matters."  
She was tempted to touch him, but felt insecure about it, fearful that he'd push her away.  
"It's that you think I will change my mind."  
"There will be a time when you miss your own world," he said, "and regret your foolish wish to remain here."

That was possible of course. She still wondered what it would be like when winter came. Being used to the modern world there were plenty of comforts to miss.  
"I guess time will have to tell about that one."  
He turned his head to look at her.  
"Time isn't merciful. It either wears you down, or fools you into thinking you're safe when you are not."

He began walking again, slowly wandering toward where the sand began. She followed, becoming aware that the wind was picking up. They had been protected among the trees; now the difference was noticable.  
"We're not getting another storm, are we?"  
"We're not," he said. "There will be rain, however, sometime later in the day."

She wondered how he could tell. Loki had an uncanny ability to predict change in weather, and she couldn't figure out whether it was because he had learned to read some subtle signs she was yet unaware of, or if he was using his magic again.

They began their quiet walk back to the house.

* * *

He was examining her foot with meticulous fingers.  
"It's remarkable how little it takes to penetrate mortal skin," he said. "I'm genuinely surprised that you don't spend your entire lifetime healing from one injury or another."  
"We're lucky, I guess." She couldn't resist sounding snarky when replying to his condescending tone. Loki gave her a look and pressed his thumbnail into her sole. "Ow! What are you doing?"  
"Only trying to detect more shards, would there be any. This may not be the only one." He was referring to the tiny, razorsharp sliver of shell lying on the table. She had stepped on it on the way home and it had lodged itself pretty deeply, making it hard both to locate and remove.

He kept pressing his fingertips against the underside of her heal, searching for sore spots.  
"If you were more mindful of where you step this sort of thing wouldn't happen."  
"Are you saying you've never hurt yourself in all the time you've lived here?" She found that hard to believe.  
"Not from stepping on a flimsy sea shell, I can assure you."

He touched a ticklish spot and she spontaneously tried to pull her foot back, but he held on to it, continuing his ministrations.  
"Will you teach me Asgardian swear words?" she asked hopefully.  
He raised an eyebrow.  
"I am teaching you the Aesir language so you can educate yourself by exploring our literature, and you wish to learn curses?"  
"It's handy when you step on things."  
He let her foot down.  
"Your own language seems more than adequate for that, judging from what you uttered earlier."

She carefully put weight on the foot to see how much it hurt.  
"But Asgard is a warriors' culture, right? You must know some really juicy ones."  
"Perhaps." His mouth twitched a little, like he was trying not to smile. "I am not convinced knowing those would serve you, though, considering what Thor told me about your conversation with lady Sif."

Oh right, that. She could feel herself blushing.  
"I didn't mean to; she just made me so angry."  
"Mmm..." He rose and went to stand behind her for a moment. "Your... protectiveness is appreciated, if not well advised."

* * *

They slept together again that night. She mustered up the courage to ask if he wanted to keep doing it, and he agreed as if to accomodate her, but once in place he pulled her close and fit his body to hers like the night before. It was strange how natural it felt. She had to wonder if he felt the same way, if he was surprised that it could be so comfortable to be close to a mortal. The option to ask occured to her, but she knew well that she wouldn't recieve an answer.

Instead she lay still, soothed to sleep by the sound of his breathing and the weight of his arm around her waist, knowing there was no other place she'd rather be.


	15. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going back and forth between fear and attraction.

He was gone when she woke up, but showed up soon enough with his hair moist and defiantly curling at the ends. She'd never seen him in the water, but knowing he'd be as protective about his privacy as she was, despite their intimacy in other areas, that wasn't in any way surprising.  
"Have you eaten yet?" she asked, roaming about for another plate. It was still early; the sun was barely up over the horizon.  
"I have not."

He took his place at the table and started talking about practical matters. Summer would last another while, but not forever; there were things to consider.  
"I'm using a spell to keep our drinking water clean," he said, "but it needs to be reinforced more often as we use more of it."  
"I thought we had a filtering system for that." She thought back on the system of natural filters he had created after his arrival and showed to her a couple of weeks back.  
"It only cleans the water; doesn't protect it from being contaminated again before we can use it. Such contamination may not affect me much, but most definitely you."

Of course. Her mortal fragility once again.

"Have you ever tried evaporating sea water, and collecting it?" she wondered, curious about his thoughts around their survival issues.  
"I did early on, but it's less efficient, so not very doable when there are two of us."

That made sense, she figured.

"We also need more firewood for the winter," Loki pointed out, "but there is time enough to collect it. I may need to expand the storage, however."

Because she was more sensitive to cold than he was.

"I'm giving you more work, ain't I?"  
"I will not be the only one here working, I assure you."  
"I know, but you're the one who knows how things are done, and you're stronger than me. You will end up doing most of it, no matter how much I try to keep up."

He looked surprised for a moment, like he hadn't expected her to be so insightful.  
"That is true, but as you learn, and take on the chores you are capable of, I may well end up doing less than beforehand."

She wondered if he was just trying to make her feel better, but decided it wasn't likely. Loki wasn't much for sugar-coating things, and certainly not when their survival was the matter at hand. And he was probably right, when she thought about it. Double the people didn't automatically double the workload, it actually made some tasks more efficient.

"Since Thor stated he would provide us with what we need, I have prepared a list," Loki said. "You may add to it at will, but be aware that if Asgard doesn't have something you desire they may send what they consider the closest equivalent."

Yeah, that made sense.

"We have nowhere to store ice cream, do we?"  
Loki smiled.  
"I'm afraid not. We could, however, eat it right away, and it wouldn't have the time to spoil."  
"You have ice cream in Asgard?" Her question had mostly been a joke, she hadn't really expected it to be a possibility.  
"They make it in the palace kitchens when there is an upcoming feast. As children we would often find our way there at the right time of the preparations, and be rewarded with treats."

Once again she tried to imagine Loki as a child, sneaking into the kitchens with hopeful eyes. It was somehow easier this time.  
"I bet you tried to look cute to get them to give you more."  
"As it was, waiting quietly often yielded better result than endless begging," he confirmed, looking content at reliving the memories. "One of the maids, in particular, was convinced that 'fat children are healthy children' and so she tried to feed us at every opportunity."

She laughed. The peek into Loki's memories, _happy_ memories, was a treat in itself. 

He was so attractive in that moment she wanted to reach out and touch his face, but didn't quite have the guts. There was something irresistable about that smile, the way it softened his face and made him less guarded. She wished to see it more often.

And out of nowhere the thought hit that she wanted to kiss him. 

She averted her eyes so he wouldn't read her mind. Loki was scarily perceptive at times, and the last thing she needed was to make a fool of herself and make things awkward.

They went over the list and she tried to think of more to add, while storing the fleeting temptation away among hidden fantasies that wouldn't come true. He had stated clearly enough that he wasn't interested in "bedding" her, and that included lip contact more likely than not. The thought was still a pleasant one; she would revisit it later.

* * *

"Why did you have me sit on your lap when Thor was here?" she asked later in the day, when dusk was starting to settle over the sea. Loki was sitting by the table with a book, while she was standing near the window, thinking.

If he found the question strange or unexpected he didn't show it.

"There was a lack of chairs; it was simply practical. Or would you rather have seated yourself on Thor's lap than mine?" He raised an eyebrow at her, a teasing smirk on his lips.  
"That's not what I mean! Why did you... You didn't have to do that. You could just have left me standing."  
"I could, but it wouldn't have been very thoughtful. You may not always find me considerate, but I do have manners, despite what you might think.  
There was a hint of accusative hurt in his voice. She didn't buy it.  
"You're just diverting. Why not answer the question?"  
He rose slowly, somehow resembling a cat stalking it's pray.  
"You have grown brazen, haven't you? No longer the timid little bird who feared me so much when you found out who I was, hmm?"  
"I told you 'fuck you' on my first day here," she retorted, feeling offended. She was not a "timid little bird".

She really had to stop losing her temper and insulting Asgardians. There were only so many times she'd get away with it.

Loki was standing right in front of her now, just close enough to invade her personal space and make her tilt her head to look up at him. She found herself straightening up even though she was nowhere near matching him in height.  
"So you did," he concurred. His voice had a purring quality to it, that she normally would have enjoyed to hear. Now it seemed... intimidating.  
"What are you doing?" She tried not to sound nervous, but couldn't quite keep her voice from shaking.  
He bent forward as if to whisper something in her ear, and she resisted the urge to back away. Why, she wasn't even sure. There was a thin line between stubborn and stupid.  
"Perhaps I need to remind you of your place," he said softly.

Before she could react he had gripped both her wrists and pressed his own body against hers, forcing her back against the wall. She was effectively trapped and he held her there with what seemed like no effort at all.  
"Stop!" she gasped. "Stop, let go of me!"

He waited patiently as she struggled, then spoke:  
"Do you see now? You really should have taken your chance to leave when it was handed to you." His lips brushed against her cheekbone and she flinched at the contact.  
"Let go!"

The whole situation was disturbing, and not only because of the fear it ellicited. His actions also incited a certain... _warmth_ in her lower belly and that was not what she wanted to think about right now. It was not something she _should_ be thinking right now!

"Do you fear me? he hissed. "Does it frighten you what I might do, now you're at my mercy?"  
"No," she said, with all the defiance she could muster.  
"It should." And with that he just let go of her wrists and backed off with a smirk, leaving her standing against the wall with a heart beating too fast. The fear dissipated and anger overtook. Before she could think about it she grabbed the nearest object, a cup, and threw it. It hit him right between the shoulderblades and he stiffened, then turned around.

She fled. Past him and out the door, but before she could take two steps outside he was on her, catching her in his arms and carrying her back inside with her feet barely touching the ground. She closed her eyes shut, bracing herself for whatever was going to break loose when he put her down.  
"I will not have you run from me," he said firmly. "That last thing I need is searching the beach for you throughout the night, and make sure you don't hurt yourself."  
"Ha!" she huffed out. "Like you'd care!"  
"I most definitely care!" he said. "Don't make the mistake to think I do not." There was something deeply serious in his tone, that she didn't know what to make of.  
"Why? Because I'm your 'pet'? To do with what you want?" If she hadn't been so trapped by his arms, she would have elbowed him in the gut.  
"Because you are the one thing that makes my existence in this miserable place bearable! Now, calm yourself! I won't harm you."  
"Too late for that."  
She kicked him in the shin with her heel, just to feel better.  
Unfazed by the attack, he drew a long, deep breath before answering.  
"It was not my _intention_ to upset you in such a way, whether you believe it or not. If you wish me to make amends I will, but you are not leaving this house."

With that he removed one arm to aim his hand at the door and seal it magically like he'd done during the storm. Another flick towards the window and a faint green glow sank into the glass and it's frame. There were no escape routes left.  
"What are you going to do with me?" she asked with poorly hidden wariness.  
"Nothing that you do not wish me to." He loosened his grip and she quickly moved out of his reach. He made no attempt to follow.

She was confused at his behaviour, but still angry, so she kept her distance and spent the rest of the evening in the back room, trying to decipher one of the books. It didn't go very well. The whole language structure was different, not just the words, and after two chapters she still had little idea what it was about.

She got interrupted when Loki came into the room, pulling aside her curtain and spreading a light, pleasant fragrance of Asgardian wine around her little space.  
"I intend to go to bed, and I expect you to join me," he said and went over to his own side, beginning to undress.  
"I don't feel like it," she said, feeling a sting of sadness once the words were uttered, but thinking even more that she should make a statement.  
"It's not optional," came his voice from the other bed.  
She pulled the curtain aside to peak out. He was standing half naked with his back turned, the blackness of the scar standing out against his white skin.  
"What do you mean?" she asked.  
He removed his pants, then walked up and pulled her to her feet without warning.  
"Exactly what I'm saying," he said, and dragged her along before shoving her down on his own bed. "Undress if you wish, I do not care."

He was wearing underwear and nothing else, and he definitely smelled of wine. This was not good.  
Her eyes darted around the room, but there was no help to find. He'd caught her easily enough last time she'd tried to escape and now she was trapped with him inside the house.

He settled in beside her and pulled the covers over them both before pulling her into his arms till they were chest to chest, only the fabric of her clothes separating her from his bare skin. There was no way to pull free; as gentle as his grip was, it was also unrelenting. There was no need for him to hold on very tightly; she wouldn't be able to move no matter what.

He sighed, giving her another whiff of what he'd been drinking, and lay still for the time being. She was waiting nervously, face cradled against his neck, but nothing happened. Then he lifted a hand and ran his fingers slowly through her hair, over and over as if petting her. It was soothing, but also added to her confusion. She had no idea what was going through his head, and didn't dare relax. Eventually he stilled, and the slowness of his breathing told her he had fallen asleep.


	16. Remorse and Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is where your heart is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music suggestion: "Save Me" - Queen

She woke up with her nose burrowed into Loki's chest. He was still holding his arms around her, but one large hand was now under her clothes, resting against her lower back.  
It was still fairly dark. Just before sunrise, she estimated.

The events of yesterday came back in a flash, and she tensed.

Loki stirred, but didn't shift position. The hand remained where it was, cool against the warmth of her skin.

She would have enjoyed this, had it not been for the insecurity. The closeness, the embrace he held her in; it was comforting, yet deliciously sensual and she didn't want it to end.   
Didn't want things to turn bad once again.

She could feel his chest scar under her fingers, slightly raised against the surrounding skin. It wasn't very large, more prominent because of it's color than because of it's size. Touching it felt... intimate, and she was almost surprised he allowed her to; she was sure he was awake and aware of what she was doing.

Living with Loki like this was a kind of intimacy in itself; only the two of them, spending practically all of their time together. Sleeping in the same room, planning and working on tasks that needed their attention, talking, reading. It had only been natural to take it into the area of physical intimacy as well.

Her hand slipped further down over the smooth skin to his abdomen. Keeping her eyes closed she felt it raise and fall in a slow, even rythm. It felt soothing. She wanted time to stop right then and there, this moment forever caught in the now.

"If I let you go, will you run from me?" Loki asked softly above her head, his voice rough from sleep.

"Will you give me reason to?"

He rubbed his thumb against her back, where his hand was resting.  
"I may not deserve your... affections, but I'm selfish enough to desire them.

"Then why do you push me away?" She kept her eyes closed still, taking in his scent and the cool touch of his skin, immersing herself in the sensations the closeness evoked.

"Perhaps it's in my nature," he said. "Frost giants aren't exactly known for their gentle and caring disposition." His voice carried the same resentful tone as always when referencing his heritage.

"If that was true you would be an ass all the time, and you're not."

He didn't answer, but also didn't let go. She was about to get uncomfortable from lying in the same position for too long, but didn't want to move and risk losing the moment. Most of all she wanted to keep exploring his body this way, scars and all, but didn't know how he would take to it. They hadn't established any boundaries, and the attraction she felt was most likely one-sided. It felt awkward to ask.

"What do you want from me?" she asked. "More than company, what do you want me to do?"

"What are you willing to give?" he asked in return.

She moaned in frustration.  
"Can you ever give a straight answer?"

Loki chuckled and held her tighter against him.  
"I'm afraid that's not in my nature either." He grew serious again, talking slowly like every word mattered. "I'm weary of being alone. My solitude, which I used to value when it was a choice, is turning on me, choking me. I cannot sleep alone anymore, because as I wait for sleep to come, the dark closes in on me and it's as if... I will cease to exist if I don't stand up and feel myself move." His voice was low but filled with intensity. "And if I do fall asleep I dream."

"And your dreams are nightmares," she concluded, suddenly understanding. That was why he went out during the night so often. It wasn't just insomnia, as she had once thought, but something else, something worse.

"Calling them nightmares is like comparing them to a child's imaginations," he said. "They are nothing of the sort."

She tilted her head back to look at him and he loosened his grip just enough to allow it.  
"I don't know how to help you," she said. "I wish I could, but I don't know how." 

"I'm not asking you too heal me," he frowned. "It would be foolish to expect such a thing. I simply want you in my presence, to remind me that I'm not here alone."

"I can do that."

She _had_ to move; her arm was falling asleep. Reluctantly she slipped out of his embrace and sat up, straightening her back which gave off an embarrassing crack.

_Why can't I ever be sophisticated?_

That's when she saw it. The smaller, clustered scars from the torture weren't just on his upper body, but on his thighs as well, disturbingly close to his groin. She shuddered.

"Why did they do that to you?" she slipped out before she could stop herself. It upset her to think about what he'd been through, and the sheer malice that must have gone into inflicting the damage.

Loki sat up and pulled the covers over his lap, his face taut.  
"Perhaps you should ask them."

"I'm sorry, I just..." She didn't know what to say. Turning away she got ready to climb out of bed, but before her feet touched down on the floor his arms caught her and pulled her back against his chest till she was sideways on his lap.

"What will it take for you to trust me?" he murmured.

"I... did trust you," she said, taken back by his sudden shifts in tone and position. "But what you did yesterday... I don't know what that was."

He held her against him, resting his chin on her head. It felt comfortable, safe somehow, and... something else she couldn't put words on.

"I regret causing you harm, if that is any consolation."

"It is." She sighed. "I just wish I knew what you were thinking sometimes."

His fingers were sliding through her hair in repetitive motions. 

_He's a tactile person, just like me._

When he spoke next his voice was so soft it bordered on a whisper:  
"If you could find in your heart to trust me... to give yourself to me..."

Her heart suddenly sped up.

_What?_

Loki's particular use of language wasn't always easy to follow, but she was pretty sure she knew what _that_ expression meant.

She had feared things would happen yesterday, but those actions had been fueled by his anger. This... was different.

"And if I do?" She didn't dare look at him.

"You would not regret it." Hand still in her hair, he held her in place while brushing his lips along her temple. He stopped next to her ear, letting out a sigh against her skin. It sent a shiver through her, making her jerk slightly in his grip. She wondered if he would let her go, would she tell him to stop. She tightened her grip on his arm, not quite sure when she had put her hand there.

He touched his lips to her jaw, then again at a new spot. The sensation lingered, even after he'd moved on. Only when he reached her mouth did he stop for a moment, long enough to turn her face fully towards him. She closed her eyes and waited, hypnotized.

The silken touch of his lips against hers sent a flutter down her belly. There was a hunger in the kiss, restrained but markedly there, and it enticed her, awoke all the feelings his presence had induced those moments in the past. He nudged her lips apart, tightening his grip on her as he deepened the contact, touching her tongue with his.

She let it happen, holding her breath without thinking. His mouth was cold, a strange sensation, and his grip a reminder of how much stronger he was. A reminder he wasn't human.

She didn't care.

There had never been a kiss so pervading, so felt throughout her entire being, as this one. It vibrated through her core, sending ripples of warmth to every single part of her body, but first and foremost to her lower belly where it melted into a sweet ache. Had she been standing, her weakened knees would have left her staggering, scrambling for support.

He let go, and she finally remembered to breathe. They didn't part entirely; his face was still close, touching hers, sharing breaths. She raised a hand, slipping her fingers through his dark, sleep-tousled hair, realising just how long she'd been longing to do so.

In a swift move he pulled her leg over his lap so she came to straddle him, embracing his hips, and then he kissed her again. It was less restrained this time, more eager than gentle, and it excited her more than she'd thought possible. Kisses weren't normally like this; they were bland, something you did because you were supposed to, nice at the most. This was so different, it wasn't even comparable.

Her hands began moving as of their own accord, caressing the smooth skin on his sides, his back, touching everything they hadn't been allowed to as if it was the one chance she'd get before he'd come to his senses and call the moment over.

He was aroused, she could tell, and it enticed her even more. When he abandoned her mouth to kiss and nibble on her neck she gasped out loud, tensing up and squeezing her thighs against him in reflex. There would have been no way to hide what she was feeling, and in a sense that was a relief; she didn't need to try.

He was beginning to remove her clothes, so she let him. It was a sensual act to feel his fingers brush against her skin while he was lifting her tunic and pulling it over her head. He didn't hurry, but there was a definite intensity to his movements, a slow passion that was almost tangible. He was savouring this.

She felt his hands around her breasts, caressing gently, yet eagerly, while he brushed his teeth against a spot below her ear, making her shiver.  
By the time she was on her back, under him, there was nothing left to separate them, all clothing discarded and forgotten. She was taking in his scent, the feel of his body, the vibrating energy he always radiated, but now so much more volatile. 

_How long have I wanted this?_

It felt like forever.

He entered her easily, a soft groan escaping his lips, and she pulled her legs up and apart to allow him deeper. He sought her mouth again, ravaging it mercilessly as they moved against each other slowly but with rising fervency, impatiently seeking relief. 

It was like coming home from a long and lonesome stray. The tension had been building for a long time, barely recognized for what it was, denied or diverted. Yet it was finding its conclusion in a few, intense moments that didn't feel like anything she'd experienced in the past. Maybe because she'd never truly been in love.

The way he moved against her made her crave more, pushing back at every thrust to get the most stimulation, to feel _everything_. It didn't take long before she gasped and tensed up as he slipped a hand under her backside to press her firmly against him and let her unravel. It triggered his own release, she realized, as he tensed and did the same shortly after.

She held on still, not wanting him to pull away, but he made no attempt at doing so. Instead he remained, weighing down on her while breathing deeply, mouth against her neck. 

When she finally broke the silence it was for a practical matter:  
"I won't get pregnant now, will I?"

"It is unlikely, but I used a spell to prevent consequenses, just to be safe."

She relaxed.  
"I'm sorry, that was not the first thing I meant to say."

Loki chuckled. It tickled her ear.  
"I suppose I should have told you, but I was... distracted."

Yes, he had seemed almost desperate when she thought back at it. Desperate for affection as much as for physical release, she suspected. Loneliness was a burden slowly eating away at him, as he had already confessed to, and it might well tear his sanity apart one day.

But for now he was safe. She moved one hand up to tangle her fingers through his dark, ruffled hair. 

They were both safe.


	17. Lust or Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When words are not enough and only closeness matters.

The day that followed was slow-paced, and none of them seemed to want to separate from the other. They didn't talk much, and didn't touch on what had happened at all, yet they were very much affected by it.

They were seated on the cliff by the water when evening came, having taken their usual stroll along the beach. There was little wind, and the air was cooling quickly as the sun began to set.

"The summer is coming to an end," Loki said. "It will soon be colder."

She had lost track of how long she'd been in this world, but his words rang true.  
"I know."

"It will not bother me much, but there may be times you wish you hadn't stayed. There will not be the comforts here that you might be used to."

"My apartment wasn't always comfortable either," she remembered. "Once the boiler broke and the landlord didn't get around to fix it for three days. In the middle of winter too."

Loki muttered something about incompetent mortals.

"There is more than cold," he said, "but you will not comprehend it until it hits you. I'm only making you aware of what to expect."

She leaned her head against his shoulder, seeking some contact, hoping it would be accepted.  
"Let's take it a day at a time," she said. "See how it goes."

He slowly wrapped an arm around her back, holding her close. There was a deep sense of contentment, laced by sensuality, radiating from the places where they touched.

"Shouldn't you miss your comforts?" she wondered. "You were raised in a palace."

"I was... but I have endured far worse accomodations since." There was a dark tint to his voice, which she had learned to recognize.

"I'm sorry for what they did to you."

Loki didn't answer, but also didn't reject her sympathy. It was a gamble, showing that you cared. There was no way to know what his reaction would be until it manifested. Yet, she was less afraid of him lashing out than she had been. The last remains of her fear were fading.

"I think I love you," she said. 

Loki brushed his lips against her temple.  
"Lust and love are different things," he murmured. "Don't be too sure of what you feel for now."

"I don't lust after people. It's one of the things that make me weird."

He was rubbing his hand along her arm, being remarkably gentle when one considered how much power and strength there was in those hands.

_How can we be so different, yet so alike?_

"It may be unusual, but not necessarily a 'weird' trait," he said. "Perhaps you simply didn't fit in the mold people had prepared for you."

"Like you? Because I don't think you fit the mold either, judging from what you've told me."

"I suppose that's true," Loki said, moistening his lips. "But I also wasn't born to fit, being everything the Aesir are not. Had Odin not found me, and decided to use me in his plans, I would never have set foot in Asgard to begin with."

"You wouldn't have survived."

"Most likely not. While still in Asgard I came across some writings about the Jotun culture, if you can call it such. There is apparently an old belief that if the king of Jotunheim sacrifices his offspring to the gods he can turn the tide of war in his favour. I believe that is what Laufey was trying to do when leaving me in that temple. Only it was too late. The Asgardian army was already breaching their lines."

"So... it wasn't because you were small?"

"It was both, most likely. Laufey had more sons; he'd choose the weakest one, the one bringing him shame, for such a task. At least I'd be good for something."

She pondered that for a while, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the tragedy of it all. It could have ended right there, a thousand years before she was born, and she and Loki would never have met.

"I'm glad you lived," she said. "I would have missed out not having met you."

Loki watched her, his face unreadable. Then he stood, pulling her to her feet.  
"We should go back," he said. "The night is falling."

* * *

_"Lust and love are different things."_

Maybe so, but they did feel exceedingly similar when she slowly ran her hands down his chest and abdomen as he was undressing before her. Even with the scars he was beautiful. The contrast between his raven black hair and pale skin seemed even more striking now, and she almost expected to see a pair of dark wings unfold behind him as the shadows deepened in the room.

"What is on your mind now?" Loki asked, amused.

"Nothing. Nothing, just thinking."

"About?"

How would she even begin to explain?

"It sounds weird if I put words on it."

"Mmm... Perhaps we should try another way." He pulled of his pants and joined her on the bed where she'd been sitting. Before she could turn towards him he had leaned in behind her and begun kissing her neck with moist, silky lips.

His hands were stroking along her arms in a sensual, unhurried manner, like he sought to feel every inch of her skin under his palms. It was as if he was savouring her, slowly, deliberately, with none of the desperation from the early morning. Still he was very much aroused; she couldn't help but noticing, and it made her shiver in anticipation.

His hands travelled to her breasts, caressing them, stroking her nipples with his thumbs. With a knee on each side of her he kept moving his mouth over her neck and shoulders, his stiff length pressed impatiently against her lower back.

She closed her eyes, reaching back to run her fingers over his thighs; muscles of steel under cool, smooth skin. He was incredibly strong, she knew, and could so easily do what he wanted, would she agree to it or not. The thought, along with his touch, sent a thrill through her core and she pulled a deep, shivering breath in response.

Loki's hand slid down her abdomen and landed between her thighs, fingers slowly seeking out her folds.   
"Ready for me so quickly?" he murmured against her ear, brushing his lips against it. 

Her breath hitched at the contact.  
"Don't tease me."

"I think you like being teased," he said, circling her sweet spot with a slick finger. "I think you'd enjoy it a lot, in fact."

His voice, dark and velvety, was as seductive as his hands and she was all but ready to melt into his arms.  
"How would you know?" she whispered, curious.

"I have given it quite a bit of thought," he said, not once wavering in his ministrations. She began to find it hard to keep still.

"When?"

"At night, when attempting to rest, my mind wanders and lately I've found..." He used both his hands to separate her legs a bit more. "... I've found it wandering to you, to what it would be like... to touch you... like this." Two of his fingers pushed deeper, curling, finding their way inside her and pressing against another sensitive spot that she'd barely been aware of.

She squirmed but he held her firmly against him, not leaving much room to move.

His voice kept purring words into her ear; soft, intimate, very personal words that filled her with sweet warmth.  
"I may have imagined what it would be like... to sheath myself inside you, to fill you. How it would feel, what sounds you would make, how you would taste."

She could hardly breathe from the effect his confession had on her. Just how long had he felt this way and she hadn't noticed?

"I may have had to relieve myself," he continued, " or I would have been unable to keep myself from entering your bed."

Damn! She was on the brink of losing control when he pulled his fingers away and turned her around to face him.

"How could you do that without me noticing?" she wondered, embracing him as he draped her over his lap and lifted her up above it.

"Haven't you learned yet?" he smirked, eyes dark and hungry. "Magic is useful for many things, like hiding what you don't want revealed." Slowly, slowly he lowered her down onto himself; an intense but frustratingly inadequate feeling emanating from the act. She let out a whimper.

"So impatient..." he whispered against her ear, "so eager to be owned."

"But when we slept... together...," she tried, finding it hard to be coherent while she tried to push down in a faster pace but wasn't allowed.

"That made it somewhat more difficult," he admitted, "though there were other things on my mind that helped keeping me distracted."

Yes, their worry about being separated for one.

She moaned in relief from finally having him fully inside. Loki kissed her deeply before beginning to move, holding her tightly against him as he did. Listening to his breathing was as erotic as the tactile sensations, his obvious arousal fueling her own.

For every thrust she was rubbing against him in the most delicious way, and when he finally spilled himself inside her she came apart clinging to him as if never again wanting to let go. He kept holding her close, his breath fluttering against her skin, till the last tingle of release had run its course. Then he shifted them both to lying position without removing himself from her slick embrace.

He kept rocking against her, slowly, lazily, never fully pulling out. It was both soothing and enticing at once, like promises of more to come.  
"You are mine," he murmured, "all mine." He lifted her leg higher over his hip, hooking his arm under it and around her lower back, pressing her closer against himself.

Love or lust, it didn't seem to matter. She'd never been so intimately connected with anyone. Whatever would come, she was never going to regret this.


End file.
